


Just Sing it Loud

by TheWriterChick



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cowboy puns, Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark's Daughter, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, Multi, Other, adding tags as I go, prompts, silliness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:15:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1689638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWriterChick/pseuds/TheWriterChick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fills from my Tumblr (thewriterchick.tumblr.com). Come by and drop a prompt in my inbox! </p><p>-----------</p><p>Newest Additions (June 19):</p><p>Chapter 13 - 1987 was a big year (Part 4)<br/>Chapter 14 - 1987 was a big year (Part 5)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Girl spoof (Steve & Darcy and Natasha/Clint)

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT: not exactly a prompt, but a long time ago typhoidmeri and I discovered that Chris Evan's frowny-face is similar to "New Girl" character Nick Miller's turtle-face. And then the roommates idea became this huge thing and well, here's what happened. 
> 
> Darcy (Jess)  
> Steve (Nick)  
> Clint (Schmidt)  
> Natasha (Cece)
> 
> Spoofing the New Girl episode "Valentine's Day" (S01E13)

Steve was pretty proud of himself when he entered the loft that night. Sure, he almost made irreversibly bad decisions on how to handle Valentine’s Day with Beth, but nope. Steve is smooth. Steve knows the ladies. He knows how to keep them happy.

… yeah, he did all the work wrong, but Beth was still impressed and that was good enough, right?

Most of his ride home was spent thinking about dating a pre-law student. She would always be busy. There would always be late nights. There would always be a phone ringing. By putting all that work in—or, rather, making his grand gesture—at least Beth knew that not having her full attention didn’t matter to Steve.

… right?

He closed the loft door behind him and tossed his keys in the dish by the door and started to shrug his jacket off, completely intent on going to bed because it was so late and he just wanted sleep, but there was a jacket on the floor right in the foyer. Darcy’s jacket, to be precise.

Steve’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. Did she end up bringing someone home?

His newest roommate had been so intent on ‘gettin’ it on’ with a stranger this Valentines Day. She was desperately sex starved and he felt for her because after Caroline, yeah, Steve _completely_ understood with Darcy was going though. But he had been under the impression that Darcy would be staying somewhere else that night.

… why did he feel mad about her bringing someone home?

But there wasn’t any noise in her room just feet away from him—there was some noise in the kitchen, though. Curiosity got the better of him and he wandered over.

Darcy had her back turned to him, and was standing at Clint’s doorway. He watched her take a deep breath—a _really_ deep breath, her shoulders rising, as if she was preparing to make a big move.

And Steve and his big mouth—

"Hey, Darcy, what’re you doing?"

Before he could finish his sentence Darcy, obviously surprised, turned around and accidentally dropped the box that was in her hands, a box that Steve hadn’t noticed, a box from which some of her hundred condoms spilled out onto the floor.

Darcy froze.

Steve stared at the condoms, completely confused. They were multi-coloured. And that had to be the biggest box of condoms he had ever seen.  

Darcy held her hands up defensively as she watched Steve’s eyes widen as he connected the dots, and she laughed nervously and awkwardly like she always does. “Ha, I was,” she thumbed towards the door behind her, “I was asking Clint a question—”

"Whoawhoawhoa," Steve cut her off, pointing to the condoms and at that same door behind her. Shock and awe ripped through his veins when he realized that his roommate had _not_ gotten lucky tonight—and apparently was so desperate that she would hook up with the easiest guy she knew. Steve stared wide-eyed at her. “ _Were you—_ ”

"NO," Darcy beat him to the punch—as if she could cover this up. But her cheeks were already turning red.

Steve frowned. “With _CLINT?_ ”

“ _NO!”_ Darcy insisted but no matter how stern her voice was, she was starting to panic. She’d been caught red-handed making a horrible decision. Stupid Clint telling her to stop thinking so hard just seconds ago; if she’d actually thought about it…. And now Steve— _STEVE_.

Quickly, she fell to the ground, desperately trying to pick up her condoms. She’d spent like $50 on the box; that was an investment spilled about her feet. “I was, I was _holding_ those—”

“ _OH my GOD,_ " Steve gasped, meeting her on the ground as he tried to scoop them up. "What has gotten into you?! And why do you have so many condoms?!?" Steve eventually stopped trying to pick them up—there were just way too many. And Clint was going to hear them soon.

"Shh!" Darcy hissed at him—this was a horrible idea. A really bad idea. And Steve was the _last_ person she wanted to stumble onto her horrible idea. “You _never, ever_ mention this to _anyone_ ever!”

"You need _one!_ " Steve told her, still on the condom thing.  "Tops? _TWO._ " He stole a glance at Clint’s door, which still hadn’t opened. For Darcy’s sake, and her dignity, he hoped it wouldn’t. But still— _CLINT?!_

Darcy was still scooping up the condoms but Steve was more focused on the task of getting his sex-starved roommate as far away from his sexual-predator-esque roommate as quickly as possible. He scooped Darcy up under the arms from behind and began taking her to safety. “Leave it! Let’s go!”

Finally she dropped her guard down as Steve dragged her away from the scene, and the embarrassment of it all took over. She cried and whined, hoping to appeal to Steve’s empathy. “I was feeling twirly, Steve!”

"NO! You are _not_ having sex with Clint!!”

——0——-

Their voices were muffled inside of Clint’s room, but there was something else going on, anyway.

Clint got halfway through throwing his shirt off when he stared at the door. “What is happening out there??”

"Stop talking!" The redhead before him hissed, completely bringing Clint’s attention back to her. Natasha stared at him hard, and as hot as she was in just her underwear and bra, Clint knew better than to look away when she was staring so harshly at him. "If we get caught? I’m going to say that you drugged me, and it’s my word against yours. Is that clear?"

Clint nodded, completely sincere. “Yeah, that’s fine! That makes sense!” His forearms stayed in his shirt—he didn’t dare move until she gave some hint that this was still okay.

Eventually Natasha’s lips curved upwards, and Clint gave her that shit-eating grin at her approval before flinging his shirt aside, burying his hands in her hair and kissing her hard just as she said, “You smell _so_ good right now.”


	2. Speechless (Clint/Darcy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> twistedingenue asked: Darcy/Clint, speechless.

Most of their time together is filled with words.

Clint started it. He heard that the new lab assistant liked dirty jokes, so that’s how he introduced himself when he saw her next. Darcy had been taken back when he just started talking to her, out of the blue, and then he told the punchline and she made the most dumbfounded face before busting a gut laughing.

Darcy was the one that started with the flirting. The first time she saw Clint in his skin-tight uniform, passing him in the hallway, she whistled. Clint stopped and gave her a ‘ _really_?’ look and she shrugged. He told her it was tight for aerodynamics. She replied, so eloquently, ‘ _your ass is aerodynamic.’_

The first angry words come from Clint, and it takes a while for Darcy to realize he’s not angry angry: he’s worried. Worried sick over her. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and when he kept telling her how easily she could’ve been crushed, how easily she could’ve died, it wasn’t a comment on him thinking she’s weak or incapable (which is what she thought). He simply kept cutting his sentences short.

You could’ve been hurt _and I couldn’t save you._

You could’ve been killed _and I couldn’t save you._

When she realized what he meant, she stared at him. And Clint realized he said too much, she figured him out, and he was left open to her, bare, exposed. He didn’t like being out in the open.

Darcy stepped up to him, gripped the front of his uniform, fingernails brushing his neck as she held the kevlar, and tugged him down to her height to kiss him.

Hours later, as they lay tangled in his bedsheets, Clint rested his hands and chin on her stomach as he stared up at her. Darcy smiled softly, kiss-bitten lips red from his touch, and kept brushing her fingers through his hair.

They’ve been speechless since the kiss and Clint didn’t feel the need to make conversation to fill the space. For the first time in years, he was full. Darcy made him whole.


	3. Gumption (Part I) (Bucky & Darcy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> captain-z asked: Brainwashed!BuckyxDarcy, Winter Soldier meets Darcy and decides he likes her gumption.

When the fighting began, Darcy looked for a hiding place. The problem with Washington was that there weren’t many hiding places available; everything was open and the streets were wide. But when a car blew up down the block from her, only some yards away, she knew that whoever was blowing shit up wouldn’t care if Washington didn’t offer any protection. She was fair game.

She found a closed restaurant around the corner—and by closed she meant that the signs were gone and the door was boarded shut. Abandoned, more likely. She kicked the door open too easily and found that plenty of tables and chairs were scattered around the diner. There was the chance that she could hide out inside with no one giving the dark, quiet restaurant any notice, but she propped some chairs against the door handle and tipped a table before the window, just in case. The blasts and gunfire started to get closer and she sat on the floor, out of the view of the windows, waiting for it to pass.

It didn’t work. Whoever was causing this chaos noticed that she had kicked in the door. They were hunting someone down—it probably wasn’t her, but that didn’t mean she still wasn’t screwed.

The chairs and door flew across the room upon impact. Darcy refrained from screaming and wielded her taser, standing tall and as fierce as she could.

There was a man clad in black in the doorway. His hair hung in his face but his eyes were sharp and pierced through. Darcy noticed he didn’t have a gun—so he punched in the door? With that much force?

And when he saw her, she noticed his right arm. Grey—no, metallic. Did this guy have a freaking metal arm?! Well, that explains the door.

He eyes her up and down—he assess the threat she poses to him. He doesn’t move much at all other than breathing. Everything is calculated.

He looks her in the eye as he addresses her. “A taser?”

Darcy clenches her jaw. “Yep.”

Now his brow furrows—confused? “Do you know who I am?”

"Don’t care," she answers honestly. Now she realizes she’s mimicking him; she’s trying to move as little as possible, not to adjust the grip on her taser or to shift her feet. She didn’t want him to see any weak points.

The man takes two slow steps into the room but Darcy stands her ground. “You should. A taser isn’t going to stop me.”

"I’ve taken down the god of thunder with this thing," she offers, and can’t help her crooked smirk. "You don’t scare me."

It’s almost as if he can’t compute what she just said—it’s so strange that someone doesn’t cower at his feet. Or maybe what she just said was too confusing, and it definitely was. She didn’t tell just about anybody about the incident with Thor, but it was true. She simply chose to leave out the fact that Thor didn’t have his godly powers at the time of the tasing. It still happened. Still counted.

The man walks up to her so swiftly she almost jumps but she holds her ground. He stops an inch before her outstretched arms and lets his eyes look her over; from her dark hair, the eyes as blue as his own, her defiant glare…

Darcy almost shivers. She’s never been so thoroughly oggled by anyone ever and it’s grating on her nerves. He’s stalking her like she’s his prey and she’s having a hard time keeping a straight face.

It doesn’t help that when his eyes look back at her, there’s a hint of something there…

Amusement.

He turns on his heel and walks out, back to the firefight, back to the hunt.

And Darcy sinks to her knees. He just spared her life. Was it because she wasn’t worth the effort? Or … did he think she was strong? Or because he thought she was funny?

"I really need to think up better exit strategies," she mumbles to herself. She sits there until she gets the feeling back in her legs.


	4. Do you wanna build a snowman? (Steve/Darcy/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lady-cheeky asked: steve/darcy/bucky, "But that doesn't explain the tattoo"
> 
> [I have no regrets over the title of this fic :p]

"I guess I never told you about my senior year trip," Darcy mused to herself.  "The idea was that you saved up, starting in freshman year, to go on this trip to Hawaii with the class. Some of the jocks used it as an excuse to party all weekend; most of them earned a suspension before the week was over. That’s always good, right? Go on a field trip a month before graduation and come home to a mark on your school record. Idiots. Well, anyway—as you know, I wasn’t exactly friends with, well, _any_ of my classmates, so I wandered around a lot on my own. I sat on the beach, collected some shells, watched the sunset… I filled a whole journal with poetry and writing.” She giggled. “I read it over a year later—holy, I was a shitty writer. But at the time, it was a great trip. It was the best trip I’ve ever had, actually… really got comfortable being myself.”

Someone cleared their throat. Darcy lifted her head from the pillow.

Steve, sitting up on the bed with his cup of coffee, looked a little perplexed. Bucky was laying beside her in the sheets. It was almost noon and he hadn’t gotten out of bed all day. It was him that got her attention again when he pinched the bare skin at her hip, exposed from him pulling at her underwear.

"Yeah," Bucky said slowly, and traced his finger over one spot in particular, "but that doesn’t explain the tattoo."

Etched above her hip was a comical snowman.

"Oh!" Darcy shrugged. "Got it on the last night I was there. Snowman in Hawaii—I thought it was funny."

Steve snorted into his coffee mug. Darcy kicked at his leg just as Bucky pinched the tattoo and started to tickle her, sending her into a laughing fit.


	5. Never gonna leave this bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> icouldbesleeping asked: Steve/Darcy: Steve learns that he cuddles in his sleep
> 
> [Still in awe over how many notes this one got. Fairly proud of it :3]

Years in the boys home and the army have given Steve an appreciation for personal space. The time spent in cramped spaces and shared accommodations during tough times made him appreciate the idea of ‘space’ and now that he had the money, he was willing to pay to have that space. This wasn’t information he shared with most people—because most people would consider it selfish—but there was really nothing wrong with having something that you could call your own.

Steve chose to live in Brooklyn because his salary afford him a large loft apartment. He bought a king bed because he spent too many years sleeping on cots. He liked his space and was able to finally enjoy it.

He was also able to enjoy the company of a girl—sorry, a woman. Or a ‘dame.’ Darcy actually really liked it when Steve called her ‘dame’—she said it makes her feel ‘old-time classy.’

Steve met Darcy at a Stark party when they were hiding in coat check to get away from the crowds. Well, Steve was getting away from reporters and Darcy was getting away from over-confident, drunk SHIELD agents. She was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, in a beautiful red dress, and when the party ended he had worked up the nerve asked her to dinner.

This was his first real relationship and Darcy was very understanding of his want to take it slow. Sometimes he saw her frustrations when he’d kiss her goodbye at her door and she’d obviously be wanting something more. But she never complained and never pushed him. She reassured him that she was happy just holding hands and going on coffee dates. And the longer it went on, he realized that he finally found someone he wanted to share his space with.

Finally he took a step forward. He took it when they were sitting on the couch in the Avengers common room.  Steve nudged her knee with his own.

"What are you doing this weekend?"

Darcy stopped flipping through the pages of her magazine and pursed her lips with thought. “Hmm…. I don’t think I have any plans. Unless Jane blows up space. Which is entirely possible—” she met his gaze and spoke seriously. “For the record, I’m always on call in case Jane blows up space.”

Steve huffed a laugh. “Well… what do you think about staying over?”

Darcy did little to conceal her surprise. The magazine fell in her lap and her eyebrows rose and disappeared under her knit hat. “What? Seriously?”

Steve bit his lips together to tone down his grin. “Yeah.”

"Like, the _whole_ weekend?”

"If you want."

The smile that spread across her face made the butterflies in his stomach worth it.

Steve got his space ready. He filled his fridge with food (usually it was pretty empty) and did more laundry than he needed to and cleaned his place up. On Friday night, when the doorbell rang,  he opened the door and there was Darcy, with her backpack instead of a purse and a huge grin on her face. They cooked dinner. They watched some 80s movies on his couch. And then she started nodding off and he decided that it was time for bed.

Now, the part about sharing a bed—Steve didn’t know how that would go.  Like he said, he was used to his space. Thankfully after Darcy knew he had a personal bubble, even if they never talked about it. After she got  changed and washed her face and tied her hair back, she crawled into bed and simply hugged her pillow. “If you snore, this relationship may be over,” she warned him.”

Steve kissed her goodnight and rolled onto his side.

When he woke up, he heard Darcy giggle.

"This changes everything—just for the record."

He wrinkled his nose, not ready to wake up yet, and was about to ask what she was talking about until she shifted in his arms. _In his arms._ Steve opened his eyes and found Darcy’s hair.

"I didn’t know you liked to cuddle."

Steve blinked, still in shock. He must’ve turned to her in his sleep, and unconsciously wrapped his whole body around her. And it really was his _whole_ body—he was hugging her to his chest. Their legs were tangled together. His head had been resting against her neck.

"I… didn’t, either."

Darcy wrapped her fingers around his arm that was wrapped around her stomach. “I like it.”

Steve thought about his space, and his comfort level, and how it felt to have Darcy in it.

"… I like it, too."


	6. Gumption (Part II) (Bucky & Darcy, Steve & Darcy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mcgregorswench sent me a prompt shortly after saying she’d like to see a longer version of "Gumption", the aftermath (at least I’m pretty sure that’s what she asked because tumblr ate the ask when I tried to respond) so here it is!!!

By the time the dust settled, Darcy was long gone from DC. She couldn’t get out of there fast enough and she certainly didn’t need a front-row seat to witness SHIELD’s demise. The news was doing a good enough job covering all the footage: the helicarriers, the deceit, the lies… Darcy didn’t know what to believe anymore.

Stupidly, she thought it would be a good idea to Google herself, considering all of SHIELD’s intel was available for all to see. Sure enough, the whole Puente Antiguo file was easily found. Her name was only sprinkled lightly throughout—never revealing too much—but she was still on the record and who knew what that could lead do. It certainly wasn’t going to help her get any jobs, the way employers run internet searches on their employees these days. Anything with SHIELD attached to it was tainted now.

She didn’t have to worry about it for too long—Darcy got a call from Jane a month later.

Jane had been offered a three-year contract with Stark Industries. Which made no sense, as Darcy said, but Jane said that Tony Stark himself had found out about her because of the ‘Thor file,’ and started looking into her work, and was impressed enough to hire her (and Erik Selvig) on to the R&D department. Darcy could continue her studies at NYU and Jane had enough money to actually _pay_ Darcy. ( _If you want the job, of course,_ Jane had sputtered before Darcy gleefully accepted.) Darcy packed her bags and jetted off to New York City because frankly, this was a scenario she hadn’t considered and it’s the best one that could come up. Who else would hire someone burned by SHIELD than someone else with the same burn?

Now that Jane had the money to afford proper equipment (instead of relying on her Frankenstein pick-your-part machinery from poorer times) results came faster, and they were better. Mapping the universe became a much easier task with clearer imaging—they weren’t running around blind any longer. And it didn’t take long until Tony Stark heard of the success and came down to Jane’s loft/lab in Brooklyn to check things out.  Darcy was initially freaked out by the star power occupying Jane’s space (and that’s saying something since she considers herself best friends with a thunder god) but soon became annoyed because Tony was coming by _every damn day._ It wasn’t his enthusiasm and interest in Jane’s work that was annoying—it was that Darcy suddenly found herself babysitting three scientists instead of two. And Tony was really high maintenance.

It was paying off, though; repairing the rip in space, and the rainbow bridge, was becoming more plausible as each day passed. And eventually Tony made the decision to let Jane, Darcy and Erik move into the Tower—for logistical purposes, obviously. ( _The equipment will work better from my rooftop than the window of this brownstone in Brooklyn. I’m still shocked that you can get cell reception out here. We’re practically in the middle of nowhere. How do you live like this? Darcy, don’t make that face at me._ )

———

It was closer to Thanksgiving by the time they moved in—half a year since the incident in Washington—when Darcy was walking into the Tower with her suitcase in tow. She was lucky to not have more crap; it made moving for science much easier. She wheeled her battered purple suitcase through the lobby, flashed her all-access security pass to the intimidating security guard (and felt wonderfully smug doing so), and boarded the elevator.

She pressed the wrong button.

Darcy could’ve sworn Tony (and his right-hand woman, Pepper Potts) told her the scientist’s rooms were on the fourty-eighth floor. The number was easy to remember—divisible—slipped off the tongue effortlessly. Fourty-eight.

The doors opened to a bright and open living space. One half was a gorgeous kitchen with granite countertops and high-end appliances; the other half was comfy couches, a massive TV, and Darcy didn’t make it five steps out of the elevator to investigate what she thought was her new crib because someone was standing in the hallway.

It didn’t matter that Washington was so long ago—Darcy was back in that place of chills in a blink.

It was him. The guy from the restaurant. The one with the metal arm. That face was ingrained in her memory.

He looked… cleaner, though. His hair had been cut. His face was a bit fuller—cured by better food and more rest—but the shape of his mouth and the squint of his eyes were too familiar, even with the set of his jaw. But there were enough differences that should calm her. Instead of his black leather and armour, the metal and guns, he was in sweatpants and a simple great shirt. His hands were in his pockets and it was unnervingly casual.

It was the eyes that did the most damage. 

He was just staring at her. Assessing, calculating—but calculating what? Was he about to take her out? He could do it, too, before she could get her hands on her taser buried in the bottom of her purse. 

Darcy swallowed hard.

The corner of his mouth twitched—almost a smile.

An odd thought crossed her mind. Did he… did he remember her or not? He seemed like he did, but something was fighting the placement of her in his memories. For now he was just… is amused the right term?

"James!"

Darcy was too busy being spooked to notice that there were doors in the hallway past the man. Whoever spoke up came through a door that was already opened—she couldn’t see them—and out of it came two people: one tall, male, blonde, _BUILT_ , handsome, but worry etched all over his face as soon as he saw the stranger in the hall. The other small, but lean, female, redhead, also worried, but her eyes flickered with recognition when they landed on Darcy.

The guy finally took his eyes off Darcy and looked back to the others. “‘m fine,” he muttered. He was tired, throat rough from lack of use. Much different from the commanding tone he used back in the restaurant in DC. 

James. He must be James.

The tall guy  pursed his lips together, and just looked plain ol’ uncomfortable. His eyes kept flickering back and forth between James and Darcy, until he stepped—cautiously—to James. James turned towards him easily, completely pliant and easygoing. Words Darcy had a hard time associating with him.

Why was the air so tense? Why were the other two acting like a bomb was about to go off?

Well, Darcy knew why. She’d seen “James” in action first-hand. The other two must know what he’s capable of.

The woman, though seemed to have decided that the threat was gone and as if she flicked a switch in her brain, she was smiling and inviting. “You must be Tony’s new assistant, right?” she asked Darcy. ”I heard you were all moving in today.”

Darcy was still too stunned to correct her—like hell would she ever sign up to be Tony’s assistant—so she just nodded. The woman’s light, warm demeanor was shocking in the tense room.

"I think you’re going up to Bruce’s floor," she continued, before turning to the other man. "Steve, why don’t you show her the way?"

The shift of his expression was comical; he went from concern to annoyed in less than a second. He gave the woman a look and she just blinked and smiled as innocently as a Cheshire cat. Darcy had no idea what was going on, but they seemed to speak with their eyes: the woman saying ’go, I’ve got this,’ and put her hand on James’ arm and Steve glaring with a ‘now is not the time’ look. But the woman wasn’t budging. 

And James finally said, “Go on, punk. I’ll catch you later.”

Something in Steve’s demeanour softened, and the woman pulled James back into the room they came from. James looked back at her one more time before they disappeared.

Steve sighed momentarily—Darcy could literally see the pressure lifting from his shoulders—and he took a moment to compose himself before turning to her. And then he grinned and Darcy felt her knees wobble.

"Yeah—sorry," he walked over to her, pushing the elevator buttons. "You’re going to want floor fifty-two."

Now Darcy needed a moment to compose herself. Adrenaline was rushing through her system because she thought she was about to get into a major fight—now she had to act like a normal human being again, and do so in the presence of one of the most gorgeous guys she’s ever seen. She cleared her throat and smoothed her hair back. “Tony told me fourty-eight. I swore he told me fourty-eight.”

"I think they shifted some people around," Steve told her, as if he was trying to make her feel better. He put his hands on his hips and looked up at the numbers above the elevator, waiting for it to approach.

From this angle his jawline looks perfect. Like a damned Greek god.

He must’ve felt her stare because he looked her way. He holds a hand out. “Steve.”

Darcy takes it and does her best not to look over-eager. “Darcy.”

"Oh," now the recognition is in his eyes too, "Thor’s attacker from New Mexico."

Darcy felt the heat in her cheeks and she bit her lips together. Ah, yes, that’s the reputation she has now, isn’t it? Damn it.

"… I was teasing," Steve muttered when she was silent for a moment. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet and was staring back at the elevator numbers again.

Damn it. Darcy shook her head and held a hand up. “No, no, it’s funny. I’m just… I’m not used to my SHIELD business  being out there.” She sighed. “You get a bunch of jack-booted thugs ransacking your lab one day, forcing you to sign gag orders if you mutter a word, and you learn how to be super secretive for years and for what? Now it’s all over the internet. Sorry, rambling.”

"No worries. And… I hear you there."

It didn’t take much more time until she put two and two together—she had him figured out by the time the elevator doors opened.

"Yeah, I bet you do."

Steve look at her from the corner of his eye and she winked conspiratorially before stepping onto the elevator. “Now I’m teasing. See? We can both be awkward together.”

Steve huffed a laugh—a genuine laugh, not just to be polite—as he stepped on afterwards. “Am I that obvious?”

Darcy smirked and pressed the button for the fiftieth floor. “Only to those who consider themselves friends with Avengers. And really, who else would be living in-house with Tony Stark, anyway?”

"Tony has an inmate ability of sucking people into his world, though," Steve replied as he leaned against the wall. He spoke like he’d been pondering this for a while. "Bruce doesn’t want to keep running anymore and suddenly Tony’s tower’s all fixed up with private rooms." He smirked bitterly. "SHIELD goes up in flames and a bunch of agents need a place to stay."

"He’s weirdly convenient."

"He’s also damn annoying."

"Oh thank god it’s not just me."

Steve smiled her way and she smiled back right as the doors were opening to the fiftieth floor. Still standing in the landing with their own boxes of crap was Jane and Erik; Pepper was with them. They spun around when the doors opened and Pepper exclaimed that they were wondering where she was.

Darcy smiled politely at Steve. “I think I’m being taken care of from here.” He smiled back and reached out to hold the elevator door open for her. “Thanks, Steve.”

"I’ll see you ‘round, Darce," he told her.

It was a short enough meeting that it shouldn’t have meant anything. But Darcy had the butterflies in her stomach. She liked his grin. She liked that she could joke with him. It was enough for her to start spinning into a full-blown crush that would occupy most of her spare time. The whole time when Pepper was showing her the new space (exactly the same as two floors below) and introducing her to Bruce Banner, the other resident scientist, Darcy was smirking from the encounter.

It wasn’t until much later that she realized she had been completely distracted from her encounter with the mystery guy in DC. No, not mystery—the murderer from DC. The guy who lit up a street with bullets and chaos. The guy who was amused by her. And now he was in the same building as her and no one seemed to be worried about it in the slightest.

James. His name was James.


	7. We are going to die (Steve/Darcy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> typhoidmeri asked: Steve/Darcy... Darcy accidentally saves the day. Congratulatory/we're still alive kiss.
> 
> Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom took over this post.

This was kind of like that one _Indiana Jones_ movie.

Except there were no stunt doubles, there were no ‘cues,’ no tricks and nothing to stop the four of them from being crushed to death. Yeah, this was real life—not a movie—and it was about to end really, really quickly.

And it was all her damned fault to begin with so Darcy was going to spend her last breathing moments feeling like a total shitheel.

It was supposed to be a simple recon assignment. It happened to be in the Middle of Nowhere, South America, and Darcy was just supposed to go to the mission site, pick up the data she needed, and head back with the thoroughly exhausted Avengers who had been on this mission for the last two weeks. Natasha, Steve and Sam just wanted to go home.  And all Darcy had to do was accidentally fall into a cave, causing them to go after her, and then they couldn’t climb back _out_ of the cave and they tried to follow the trickling water to get out and this must be some drug-smugglers hideout because the place is _boobytrapped all over_ and _actual guys with guns_ were chasing them.

They got stuck in a little alcove that was too carefully carved out to be natural, but there was no way out. And someone tripped a wire. (Darcy bet she was the culprit.) Their entry way just got blocked by a boulder.

And now the ceiling, with its pointy stalactites was slowly coming down on top of them, ready to spear them like kebabs.

Steve and Sam were pushing on the boulder in the doorway, but even with Steve’s super-human strength,  it wasn’t budging. That didn’t stop them from trying harder and harder, though—which only meant that it was their only option. Natasha was frantically searching the room, looking for the gears that helped the ceiling descend, looking for an off-switch, anything. Darcy, pitiful, useless Darcy, was succumbing to a panic attack.

Between the guys yelling, utterly frustrated that _this_ was the way they would go on to the other side, and Natasha swearing in Russian, Darcy couldn’t take it any longer. She backed up away from them all, staring up at the approaching rock, only two feet from her head now. “Shit,” she muttered, “shit shit, fucking idiot, _shit_ —”

And it was while she was walking backwards that her combat boot (the same ones she tripped over before falling into the cave to begin with) hit a stalagmite. She fell over, but couldn’t help noticing that the rocky formation _gave_ under her kick.

The ceiling shuddered to a halt. The grinding of rock silence. Everyone held their breath.

And slowly, the ceiling began to ascend, back to its proper height, and Natasha started cursing again, and before the boys could brace themselves, the boulder gave way. Sam fell back out into the hallway with a yelp.

Darcy crawled to her knees and looked at what she kicked. It was made to look like the rest of the room, but it was hand-crafted. A lever in the ground. A kill-switch.

The noise she made wasn’t exactly human but it was full of relief.

"Let’s go," Natasha urged, already at the door and helping Sam get to his feet.  

Darcy was still staring in awe at the lever, as if she found a bowl of Fruit Loops in a place like this, and it wasn’t until Steve put a hand on her arm that she snapped out of it. He was holding a hand out to her; she took it and let him pull her to her feet.  Natasha and Sam stepped out into the hallway after making sure the coast was clear.

And just as Darcy got settled on her heels, Steve was pressing her back into the cold wall to lay one on her.

Between the relief of being alive and the shock of Steve kissing her, Darcy had to chalk this up as the most euphoric experience of her life. Her body practically fell against his as her knees went weak, and she tried to get a taste of him, but Steve only moved enough to suck her bottom lip for a moment. When he pulled back, those baby blues were bearing down on her with enough admiration to make him blush.

"You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Darcy Lewis."

Darcy couldn’t help wrinkling her nose. “Are you being sarcastic right now? Because we’re in this predicament _because_ of me _.”_

Steve shut her up by kissing her, chastely, once more. “We’ll talk about it later. C’mon.” He pulled back from her only to wrap her hand with his. “I’m getting you home.”


	8. Save a horse...  (Darcy/Clint)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> somanyfandomssolittletime asked:
> 
> I CAME TO PROMPT YOU! :D Darcy/Clint, cowboy.
> 
>  
> 
> There's some dumb innuendo in this one and I'm sorry for that.

Darcy’s going to need to take some lessons on how to be sneaky and tactful. She’ll probably ask Natasha. She wished she had asked sooner.

Normally Darcy doesn’t hang out on the Avengers floors of the Tower because she’s a science peon, and the peons hang out with their own kind. Tonight’s a bit different because Thor was in town and he invited Jane and Darcy up for dinner.

So they’re eating in the communal kitchen, enjoying the awesome view of the city and some of the Avengers are sweeping through the room. They say hi, maybe chat for a bit, and then go on their way. Darcy’s met them all on more than one occasion, so they’re pretty friendly with her while she’s in their space. It’s a nice feeling. Bucky and Tony are watching (read: seriously arguing) over a movie while they sit on the couches across the room. When there’s a lull in conversation with Thor, they hear the minor insults from the other two and snicker pretty hard.

(At one point Bucky says to Stark, “Historical accounts don’t need glorified explosions and tits and ass, you limp noodle.”)

And that’s when Natasha and Clint show up. They’ve been undercover for the last few weeks, with some backwoods drug dealing group in the south or something ridiculous like that. Either way, the mission was over and they’re off the clock, except when they walk into the communal kitchen, they hadn’t had a chance to clean up or get out of their undercover clothes.

Natasha’s wearing cowboy boots and a plaid shirt and had a few cuts and bruises, but was fine for the most part. And Clint was wearing unbearably tight jeans, cowboy boots, and was covered in a good layer of dust and sweat. He was hitting his black cowboy hat against his hand, sending a cloud of dust off it and into the air.

Tony laughs at the sight of them and Bucky, who knows better than to laugh at Natasha, can’t help grinning but just raises his brow to ask, really? Natasha starts to rip them apart but Clint makes the most of it. He puts his hat back on his head and puts his hands on his hips.

Darcy is briefly overcome by memories of the ‘cowboy’ phase she went through during senior year of high school. A rodeo came through town, she had gone with some friends, and had a sudden fascination for guys with spurs and tight jeans.

And lord, Clint’s jeans were tight. The man’s ass may not be as glorious as Steve’s but obviously she had just been viewing Clint from the wrong angle—the man was tight and firm, 100%. His thighs were sturdy looking too, enough to hold her weight if, say, she was straddling him—and the way his arms looked in that tight black teeshirt, pulling across his shoulders—

"You okay there, Darce?"

Unfortunately she had been so stuck in her daydreaming that she hadn’t heard Thor trying to get her attention. And when he called her name a few more times, it drew the attention of the others, and you didn’t have to be a billionaire genius philanthropist to figure out where Darcy’s eyes were trained.

Thankfully Darcy pulls her wits together before meeting Clint’s shit-eating grin (god, could he look more smug? Yes, she was oggling him, but he could have a little humility). She twirled some more spaghetti on her fork and said, “Could those be any tighter, Barton? Aren’t you cutting off the blood to your lower brain?” She feigned concern. “That can’t be healthy for it—and being so small, it needs all the help it can get.”

Bucky laughs so hard his head falls back against the sofa. Tony groans and puts his face in his hands because ‘that brought up too many visual, Lewis. I don’t want to think about Clint’s lower brain.’

Clint, though narrows his eyes at her, and Darcy refuses to look away. Her lips are pursed in a satisfied smirk, even when he gets a dirty look in his eyes. He hams it up, hooking his thumbs in his belt, and walks over to her until he’s leaning over the kitchen table, almost in her space. His broad shoulders and tight muscles look so damned good, even the bit of dirt on his cheekbone.

"Come around sometime, little lady," he jokes, laying on the southern drawl that he’s probably been perfecting all week, "and we can find out,"

Darcy rolls her eyes to cover up the fact that she just got hot between her legs. Damn it, damn her stupid kinks. “Fuck off, cowboy,” she yawns and puts her fork in her mouth.

But Clint knows. He knows he got to her.

And a day later, she doesn’t know when he does it, or how he does it, but when Darcy’s cell phone goes off and instead of her normal ringtone, ‘ _Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy_ ’ starts playing?

She knows it’s all Clint’s fault.

That asshole.


	9. Guilt (Bucky/Darcy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Bucky and Darcy know each other casually (there was an incident with Hydra Tech that required Jane to get involved a while ago) and they're pretty chill: they smile at each other (rather Darcy does; Bucky just nods) in passing and they don't all together hate each other. Something happens to Darcy (like a fender bender or someone had a bad case of road rage) and she has to go to the hospital; Bucky starts motherhenning her and Darcy's having none of that from someone who she barely knows.
> 
> Haaaaa this got long. Also, Bucky is darker than you probably intended.

It doesn’t happen often, but once in a blue moon, the astrophysicist gets a call from SHIELD because they need help of the space-and-science-y variety. The danger level is usually low—the baddies have been defeated or they’re in handcuffs already—and it’s during the cleanup that agents find miniature black-holes in jars, or radioactive star remnants.   
  
The first time it happens (black hole in a jar incident), Jane dragged Darcy along because who else was going to help carry all of the equipment? And when they drive to the site, they find that the mad scientist that blue up the warehouse in New Jersey was already taken away, and the place was crawling with SHIELD agents, but a few Avengers were still around.   
  
That’s when Darcy saw him for the first time—the Winter Soldier, aka James “Bucky” Barnes. He was certainly dark and broody as they had claimed he would be. The man radiated angst. But the others seemed calm and normal around him, so she better be, too. When Darcy and Jane walked up, and he looked at her, she smiled.   
  
Bucky just nodded his head.

  
  
She’d see him in the hallways of the Stark Tower when she was doing coffee runs. Most of the time he was still in his uniform, but without the mask. Slightly less menacing. Still, she reminded herself that the armor was to spook the bad guys, not her. So she’d smile. And he would nod at her.   
  
At least he wasn’t looking past her.   
  
One day Jane gets another phone call from Agent Coulson—they’re at an abandoned building in lower Manhattan where some extra-terrestrials had made their base, and there seemed to be weather equipment inside.   
  
As usual, Darcy drove them to the site. The road was busy and everyday New Yorkers were honking at the SHIELD vans blocking two of the lanes. Darcy could barely squeeze Jane’s car past.   
  
Coulson, Steve, Bucky and Natasha were still at the scene. Darcy and Jane walked over with some of their monitoring equipment, laying it on the steps of the building. Darcy cursed to herself as she looked it over. “I forgot the EMP reader. Hold on.” She spun on her heel and made her way to the car.   
  
“And the atmospheric barometer!” Jane called after her. Darcy gave her a thumbs up, and barely heard Jane say, “Can you help her? It’s a lot to carry and I’ve got to start booting this stuff up.”  
  
Darcy looked over her shoulder to see Jane kneeling down and turning her equipment on, one by one, and to her surprise it was James that was following her. It didn’t matter to her either way—she just assumed Jane was asking the Hunkiest Boyscout in America.   
  
Darcy got the trunk open and pulled out a few things, dropping one to the ground into the street. Darcy waited until the coast was clear before jumping out the grab it—except there was someone who was half a block down, someone behind the wheel that was on a cell phone, someone that was yelling to the caller that these SHIELD guys park wherever they want but they cause so much damage to the city, cost the taxpayers millions of dollars and on top of it all they held up traffic. So he revved his engine and started to speed, hoping to make a point by roaring past the agents, getting their attention.   
   
And Darcy’s hip connected with his hood before she fell and hit her head on the asphalt.   
  
———————  
  
“Minor concussion, nothing I would be too worried about,” The SHIELD doctor told her when she woke up. “And minor hairline fracture in your left tibia.” He pursed his lips, almost amused as he read her chart. “No bruising or road rash. Not too bad, considering he hit you going 40.”  
  
Darcy sneered at him. It was easy for him to say, he didn’t have a goose-egg the side of a golf ball on his head or his leg slung up in plaster _. He_ didn’t have to be stuck on bed rest eight weeks.   
  
“You should’ve seen it,” Jane told her once the doctor left, once they had the go-ahead to head back to their apartments on the upper floors. “The guy stopped his car and got out, started blaming you for going onto the road, when EVERYONE saw he was speeding, even with the police slowing traffic down and posting the signs.”   
  
Darcy rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to see it. She’d rather not have her leg banged up. That would be nice. She sat in the wheelchair that Jane held still for her. Ugh, getting babied like this for the next eight weeks was going to be brutal.   
  
“And Steve was already shouting at him before we got over to you, but you know what happened? The driver started calling you a dumb bitch—we all knew that’s what he was going to say—but he didn’t finish saying it, because Bucky knocked him out. With one punch. Sent him to the ground. He was out like a light for an hour.”   
  
Darcy didn’t know what to make of that.   
  
————-  
  
The first day of being confined to her apartment and her couch was not going over well. Darcy was only up for four hours and she hated everything already.   
  
So she took a walk with her crutches.   
  
She had walked through three floors of the Tower before someone called out to her.   
  
“You’re not supposed to be walking around.”   
  
If it was anybody else, Darcy would tell them to screw off. The fact that Bucky was addressing her, though, for the first time ever, had her stop in her tracks. Darcy’s crutches came to a halt before she turned back around.   
  
This was a Bucky she hadn’t seen before. He was in a loose teeshirt (well, loose everywhere but his shoulders) and sweatpants. He looked more awake than she’d ever seen him.   
  
“I’ll get bedsores if I sit for too long,” she exaggerated, because the reality was that she was bored. She started to hobble away.

She heard his shoes against the floor as he caught up to her. Although, instead of lecturing her or stopping her, he walks beside her. He slows his stride and matches her three-point hobble down the hall. Darcy looks at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Um… heard you punched that guy out."

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t look at her. “I did.”

"Thanks."

He huffs. Like she shouldn’t mention it. It wasn’t a laugh.

———-

Bucky is suddenly around a lot more often, but he doesn’t talk any more than he used to.

At first, he finds her when she’s taking her ten o’clock and three o’clock hobbles down the hallway. She’s really not sure if he’s keeping her company, or if he’s just worried that she’ll fall over. Darcy just focuses on getting her blood flowing.

Then, on a day she’s feeling extra tired, she doesn’t go for her walk. She barely makes it to her couch. When she’s about to drift off for a mid-morning nap, barely paying attention to _Pretty Woman_ playing on her TV, that’s when Bucky knocks on her apartment door. He comes in, checks on her, calls her doctor to make sure her grogginess wasn’t because of her concussion, and when he gets the all clear… he goes ino her kitchen and makes her chicken noodle soup.

If she wasn’t feeling so sleepy, she’d be asking him, _what the fuck, Barnes?_

It only gets worse from there, though.

Suddenly he’s everywhere. Darcy tries to go to work for a little bit—just to have something to do—and she arrives to see Bucky already there (with Steve) and they’re moving in a new desk for her workspace, one that’s short, that she can sit at, compared to all the other tall, stainless steel tables.

She made mention to Jane about having to go out to buy some more science textbooks, some new ones that came out, and she goes back to her apartment that night to find it sitting on her kitchen table. JARVIS told her that Bucky just left her place thirty minutes ago.

———

Then one day, she came out of her bedroom, on a Saturday morning, when she had no commitments, nowhere to be—she could hide in her apartment all day and not see another soul—and she saw Bucky, in her kitchen, ready to take her garbage out.

Bucky stood still when she emerged, only for a moment, before he ducked his head and took the trash out into the hall.

Darcy knew he’d be back. And she had to talk to him. Because not only was this unbelievably strange (to the point that she can’t enjoy a chiseled hunk of man following her around), it needed to stop. She made her way to the couch and sat down. The room was a bit cold and she shivered.

She hadn’t even heard him come back in and he was already pulling the blanket from the back of her couch and draping it over her.

"Bucky," her voice is loud and harsh. "Stop."

Bucky freezes over her. A soldier always listens to orders.

She glared up at him. “What the fuck?”

Bucky blinked at her. “What?”

"I. Don’t. Need. A babysitter," Darcy pontificates, voice growing louder. "You have been _babying me_ for the last four weeks. I’m a god damned adult. And for fuck’s sake, it’s a broken leg—I can take out my own garbage. I can make my own food. I can walk down a hallway without someone holding my hand.” She scoffs and looks at the ceiling and counts to ten.

"… I know you can."

He’s soft spoken and it only makes it worse.

"I thought Jane would be hovering over me, but you?! We haven’t said more than _five words_ to each other and now you’re a freaking… barnacle!” She slaps his chest—it’s right in front of her and it’s a dumb move but she’s so mad—“So what the fuck, Barnes?”

"… I should’ve grabbed you."

Darcy’s too riled up to know what he was talking about. “What?”

The next time he speaks, he’s quiet. Timid. “… the car.”

Darcy stares at him.

Bucky averts his eyes, staring at the space above her shoulder.  He swallows hard, and she watches his adam’s apple bob with the effort. “I should’ve grabbed you.”

There was so much in his eyes in that moment that she wondered how she could’ve thought that he was ever cold. He had to carry that emotion around all of the time—the intensity was unbearable. If Darcy had ever taken the time to look at him, to _really_ look at him, the guilt would be so obvious. He carries that around every day—the guilt of what he’s done—and he goes out with the Avengers and he tries to make it better, even though he knows he can never rectify his actions.  Even if it’s a little thing, he tries to make it better.

Even if it’s not his fault—not in the slightest—he’s trying to make it up to her.

Darcy’s expression falls—the anger and frustration is gone—and she just looks at him. It unnerves him; Bucky swallows again and doesn’t move. He can’t be comfortable, leaning over her like this, but he refuses to make the first move. He needs her to tell him to leave. And he would. And he’d never come around again.

So Darcy reaches out, tucks her fingers into the collar off his teeshirt, her fingernails brushing against his skin. Bucky’s breath catches and she tugs him closer. He comes without a word.

Darcy can feel Bucky shiver all the way through his body when she’s only touching his lips. She tries to keep it warm and soft, hoping to give him some of that.  When she pulls back, it’s not too far, she’s still close enough to feel his breathe against her chin.

Bucky’s staring wide eyed at her.

She smiles and mutters, “You idiot.”

To her pleasant surprise, she’s rewarded with something she’s never heard from the quiet Winter Soldier: his laugh.


	10. 1987 was a big year (Darcy is Tony's Daughter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nemhaine42 asked:
> 
> Prompt: Pepper suspects Tony might be Darcy's father and cannot unsee the resemblance. It might be driving her a little bit crazy. [If you write even a paragraph of this for me, there will be a sizeable chunk of my remaining soul with your url on it.]

When Pepper and Tony wake up, get out of bed and start their day, Tony has his morning cup of coffee at the kitchen table with his feet up, resting on the table edge. It’s a gross habit but he insists that it helps him think in the morning. “I’m going to be on my feet all day—I try to give them a break when I can.” It’s also one of the few times that Pepper sees him awake AND calm, quietly reading a paper. She can’t hate him for it, so she kisses his forehead every morning and walks off to get dressed for work.

Except when she walks into Jane Foster’s lab one day, ready to hand off some new HR benefits manuals for the scientist to review, she hears the words, “I’m on my feet all day. I try to give them a break.”

And there is Darcy Lewis, the snarky but smart and humourous intern, leaning back in her chair, feet up on one of the stainless steel tables, coffee mug in hand while she reads a newspaper.

Pepper is caught off-guard by the similarities, but she shakes it off and keeps going about her business.

Except she starts to see more and more similarities and it’s really, truly starting to freak her out.

Tony and Darcy both take their coffee black. Tony and Darcy are obsessed with 80s rock. Tony and Darcy both think Senator Stern is whiny conservative bitch (they both used the same wording) and they both prefer vacations on a beach than somewhere cultural or touristy.

These could be simple coincidences, and Pepper tries to convince herself as much, but it doesn’t help that Darcy and Tony never work together. Honestly. They may encounter each other once a week when Tony comes down to Jane’s lab to check things out. Folks tend to mimic each other’s actions unconsciously when they spend inordinate amounts of time together, but Darcy saw Tony for maybe… thirty minutes a week?

So it doesn’t explain how both of them bite their nails when they’re working on numbers. It doesn’t explain how they both tap snap their fingers when they walk around in a daze, in tune with some private song playing in their heads. It doesn’t help that they both sigh when they have to wait more than two seconds for the elevator.

Once Pepper saw it, she couldn’t stop seeing it.

One night, at dinner, Pepper looks at Tony and asks, “You know I love you just the way you are. And your past hookups are what they are, and nothing’s going to change it.”

Tony stops eating and gives her a look like he knows he’s about to get into trouble.

"I’ve got one question and you don’t need to get into a ton of detail, but… 1987. Was that a … big year for you?"

Tony slowly put his fork down and focused on a spot across the room. “… Yep.”

"Bigger than others?"

Tony swallowed hard, even though he hadn’t taken a bite of anything, before timidly admitting, “I may have gone on a road-trip after graduation. Because that’s what all college kids do, right? They go across the country? Well, I kind of took the family jet with some friends and we hit up every state capital.”

"Really."

"Yep."

"Even Ohio?"

Tony almost smirked at a memory but caught himself. He stiffened up and replied in short snippy sentences. “Yep. Ohio is nice in the spring.” And then he picked up his dinner plate, kissed Pepper on the cheek and went off to find something to do before this got even more awkward.

Except it couldn’t, because Pepper had already looked up Darcy’s file and found out that she was born in the fall of 1987 in Columbus, Ohio.

… SHIT.

———————-

Coulson gave her that look of exhaustive politeness—the one he wore when he was bored by a problem—and replied, “Yes, it’s true, and no, they don’t know. And to be honest, Miss Potts, I don’t think we should.”

Pepper frowned. “Why not?”

"How well do you think Tony is going to take having a daughter?" Coulson explained. "You remember the presents he bought you when you hit your one-year anniversary?"

Who could forget the giant bunny rabbit?

"Do you know how many things he would shower onto Darcy because he would be filled with so much guilt over abandoning her? Especially when he still considers himself abandoned by his own father, in more than one way?"

Pepper bit her lip. “You have a point.”

"And how do you think Miss Lewis would feel with that much attention and materialism and Tony up in her space when she’s already annoyed to death by him?"

"Wait, she is?"

"She only throws around the term ‘tase your balls off’ to Mr Stark."

…. Oh god.

"… So mum’s the word?"

"Mum’s the word."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had way too much fun writing this one. I enjoyed doing this from Pepper's POV. And thanks to the wonderful tumblr response (and some poking from some certain people *coughcoughtyphoidmeri* *coughinkandashcough*, this will probably continue .


	11. 1987 was a big year (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy has always known that Tony was her dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My muse's name is Gertrude (Gertie for short). She's flakey and loves to laugh when she ruins my creative process. Basically she's a turd who let this one little prompt take over my life for the last week. 
> 
> This was posted to my tumblr last week but I'm only just getting around to putting it here--sorry for the wait! Part 3 right away, as well. 
> 
> Oh, and dopemixtape, typhoidmeri and inkandash are enabling enablers who enable. But that isn't news.

  
Darcy has always known that Tony was her dad. When she’s fourteen, sitting in the kitchen of her house and Tony Stark’s latest scandal is blaring on the television, and her mom scoffs and blurts it out. “See that guy, Dee? That’s your dad. He’s an ass. Don’t date men like him and don’t become like him.”

At first Darcy’s thinking her mom has had one glass of wine too many and is just blithering, so she ignores the comment.

But twelve years later, when she gets dragged to the Tower with Jane, and actually spends some time with him? Yeah. Tony is totally her dad. She sees the likeness, the snark is obviously hereditary, and there are little mannerisms. They both take their coffee black for the same reasons—“like I really need sugar clouding my brain while I’m working”—and they’re both more interested in outcomes than explosions and making things go boom (believe it or not, it’s true). Also the love of classic cars is a shared interest, but Darcy doesn’t really talk about that much to begin with.

It doesn’t bother Darcy much. If Tony knew she existed, he probably would’ve been a crap dad because for most of Darcy’s life, he was a huge partier and womanizer and that wouldn’t have been very good for a young woman to grow up with. Not to say that Tony isn’t a nice guy now—the kidnapping, super-heroing and almost dying from metal poisoning stint have done wonders for his demeanor. And it’s safe to say that Pepper Potts has made a better man of him, too.

Darcy’s just a little too chicken to bring it up and worried that funny-guy Tony Stark will turn into a sopping mess and try to make it up to Darcy by showering her with money and gifts. She had a friend in college that had an absent father—the kind who only sent her a postcard on her birthday—and as she got older, he was overcome with this sense of guilt. He’d keep calling her and texting her, sending her presents like stuffed animals or concert tickets, and according to her friend, it was just too awkward. Like he was trying to win her love with money. She wishes he would’ve just stayed out of her life. So since Darcy has seen the experience first hand (and knows for a fact that Tony has much more money to blow away on stupid gifts), she keeps quiet. Things are comfortable the way they are.

Pepper’s figured it out, though. Of course she has. She knows Tony better than anyone and she’s getting to know Darcy better every day.

So one day, she says something, to deal with the problem head-on.

"Pep, you’ve really got to tone it down," Darcy tells her one day when Pepper is visiting the lab. Jane is off in the corner with Bruce, tinkering with some new toy that Tony gave them, so they have a little privacy.

When Pepper didn’t respond, Darcy looked up and saw the CEO almost making the connection to what Darcy was referring to. Almost. She just needed a little push. Darcy smiled softly. “You keep looking at Tony and I like that and he’s going to figure it out soon. Everyone is going to figure it out.”

At least Pepper respected her enough to not play dumb, but her eyes widened and she lowered her voice. “You know?”

" ‘Course I do," Darcy looked back to her reports and her numbers. She began stapling the papers together, talking absentmindedly. "My mom told me."

"… and you don’t want him to know."

"I don’t need his brain to break over the whole fatherhood thing. He kind of needs to be readily available to save the world at a moment’s notice." Darcy took a moment to think about it, shrug, and told Pepper, "And it’s not like I’m messed up by not having him around. I had my uncles. I think I turned out okay."

Pepper considered her for a second before giving her a very proud smirk. “Considering your genes, you’ve turned out better than okay.”

Darcy beamed for a moment and went back to stapling.

"… don’t you think he should know, though?"

Darcy’s hands slowed and she shrugged again. “I’m not going to tell him. And you can tell Coulson that I already know, too, so that he’ll stop interfering with our schedules.” Suddenly she looked unbelievably frustrated. “Stupid Agent Sunglasses puts so much effort into making sure Tony and I spend as little time in the same room together as possible, he’s going to be the one blowing the cover. And damn it, there’s shit that Tony needs to approve before Jane can go spend a bunch of money on science. Coulson’s holding us up. It’s a pain in the ass.” She ended her rant with an almost too polite smile, and it came off creepy. “So if you could let him know. Thanks.”

When Pepper tells Coulson, the agent looks a little flustered and actually walks away with his head down.

And Pepper realized that Darcy really is like her father, in all of the good ways.

—————-

To be honest, Darcy had a bigger reason for keeping it all under wraps. It hadn’t been a problem until she had been in the tower for four weeks. But now it’s a problem. Or it could be a problem. She didn’t want it to be a problem.

At the end of her work day, Darcy walks down the hall to the elevators. She waits until she’s the only person in the lift, then mutters, “JARVIS, override privacy code 33ABFF12.” JARVIS makes a confirmation ‘beep’ and she knows she won’t be traced, and with that reassurance, she presses a button that will lead her to a floor that is not her own.

The hallway is clear when she walks through. The scary part was that her destination was at the end of the hall and she could easily be spotted—like a wild animal in an open field—so she always scurries across the floor as fast as her legs can carry. Then she lets herself into the apartment.

It’s empty, as far as she can tell. She’s momentarily disappointed, but decides to start making some dinner while she waited. Her purse and shoes were left at the door and the moved about with an air of familiarity, grabbing a pot and finding the pasta in the pantry.

She chops up the vegetables and puts them aside and just put the knife away in the dishwasher when large hands creep up her hips and wrap around her belly.

"Gawd," she gasps momentarily, completely spooked, but again, these arms are familiar. She laughs and raises her hand up behind her to run through his hair. He nuzzles into her neck, taking a deep breath in.

"I like coming home and seeing you in the kitchen," Steve Rogers mumbles, and she feels the vibration of his voice through his chest. "Not in a ‘women belong in the kitchen’ way… but I like having you here. At home."

Damn it. Steve is the sweetest guy Darcy has ever known and sometimes he says things she didn’t think she’d ever hear come out of any of her boyfriends mouths. He wasn’t scared to talk about commitment. He wasn’t scared to let her know how much he wanted her.

And he let her know it when his hands slipped lower and cupped her through her leggings.

Darcy moaned and rolled her head back, resting against his shoulder, and moaned again when Steve palmed and gave her a firm squeeze. “Dinner’s gonna get cold.”

Suddenly he’s spun her around, lifted her up and sat her on the counter, and she lets her legs spread apart to let him stand between her knees while his hand goes back to work, just as Steve licks her earlobe. “This won’t take long,” he promises.

Yep. She’s got it pretty good. Why mess it up by bringing out your dirty laundry?.


	12. 1987 was a big year (Part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same notes as before, really... enjoy :p

Of all the people that could’ve let the cat out of the bag, Jane was the person Darcy least expected. Jane didn’t exactly put the writing on the wall, but she certainly lit the spark.   
  
"You two _really_ look alike,” Jane announces one day, completely out of the blue.   
  
Darcy was in the middle of putting a plate back onto the neutron laser, just after Tony had finished recalibrating it, and both of them paused at the suggestion. Darcy did her best to keep her face passive, but she wasn’t sure how well she was doing at keeping her eyes from bugging out.   
  
Tony, unfortunately, was intrigued by this thought. He froze, narrowed his eyes, and looked at Darcy. She watched those eyes dart over her hair, the face, the _nose_ —  
  
"And you two act a lot alike, too," Jane continued, further stabbing the knife in the back.   
  
Darcy tried to play dumb. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  
  
Jane shrugged. “Little mannerisms. You both set your screwdrivers down on the left side of your work station. You both prefer the old rock radio station over anything else,” Jane flicked her pen in the direction of the radio sitting on the side of the room. When Tony and Darcy looked back at her, Jane just shrugged. “Just something I noticed.” And she looked back down at her diagrams like it was no big deal.   
  
Darcy rolled her eyes and announced, “I don’t see it,” before walking back to her desk. The hammer in her hand, though—no. She made a point to leave it on Jane’s desk instead of bringing it back to her own.   
  
But she didn’t have to be facing Tony to know that he was staring at her, hard, eyes in the back of her head.   
  
  
—————  
  
  
She’s got a nagging feeling that everything’s about to blow open. It sticks to her the whole night, even when she’s back in Steve’s apartment and wrapped up in him, in his bed. She stares at the ceiling, over the little imperfections in the paint.   
  
She feels something warm on her belly and looks down. Steve’s resting his chin on his hands and looks up at her after kissing her skin. “You’re quiet tonight.”   
  
Darcy wrinkles her nose. “Just work stuff. I can’t get my brain to shut up.” She brings her hand down to smooth through his hair, hoping to distract him (and also because his hair is just way too soft. She envies him of it).   
  
It doesn’t quite work. He shakes his head. “No, it isn’t. I’ve seen you after a bad day—you can’t wait to yell about whoever pissed you off. You let off steam. This is different.”   
  
Darcy pulls her lower lip between her teeth and worries it back and forth.   
  
Steve keeps his baby blues on her and the hand over her hip squeezes her. “C’mon, doll. Talk to me.”   
  
Darcy’s eyes flick back up to the ceiling. “Haven’t really talked about this with anyone. It’s hard.”   
  
He doesn’t say anything. He just waits for her to come around. And considering the depth of their relationship—and how quickly Darcy is falling for this goob, and she knows it, too—she realizes it may be better to get it out of the way.   
  
Now she’s got both hands in his hair and she takes a deep breath but can’t look him in the eye. “Just imagine growing up with you mom, not knowing who your dad is, and suddenly he’s on the television.” Steve’s head tilts in her hands and she runs her finger over the shell of his ear. “And every time he’s on the TV, your mom spits and hisses, and calls him a jerk. And you kind of worry about turning into him. But you keep it in check and you turn out okay.”  
  
"More than okay," Steve’s voice is soft as he reassures her.   
  
A grin spreads across her face that she can’t hold back. She pulls at the hair at the back of his neck and he hums his appreciation.   
  
Except now was the hard part.   
  
"And then, when you’re older and interning in New Mexico, your boss gets called up. By his company. He wants her, and you, to go work for him. And then you move into your Dad’s tower and live there and he doesn’t even know that you exist."   
  
The room is quiet.   
  
"I mean, he knows you exist as a person," Darcy babbles a bit. "But as his daughter? Nope. He doesn’t have a daughter."  
  
She appreciates that he’s not freaking out—he’s not laughing at the outlandish claim and he’s not saying she’s a liar, so that’s good—but his reaction does eventually come about. Eventually, Steve presses himself up off her,  to his hands and knees. His body pulls the sheets up with him and Darcy shivers as the cool air brushes over her skin. Damn, they’d been all nice, warm and cozy.  
  
Steve sits back on his heels and still looks a little gobsmacked. “Tony?”  
  
Darcy nodded. “Yeppers.”   
  
"And he _doesn’t_ know?”   
  
"Mom never called him after he swung through Ohio for a business convention or whatever. She was working at the conference center at the time. One of the ushers, or something." Darcy rolled her eyes before she sat up. "He doesn’t know and I’m kind of okay not bringing it up. Except Jane made a comment today about how alike Tony and I are, and you can just see the wheels in his oversized brain starting to turn, you know?" She shook her head. "He’s gonna figure it out."   
  
"… holy shit."  
  
"What?"  
  
The gobsmacked look was gone and replaced with a hint of horror. Steve ran his hand over his face before covering his mouth, and sheepishly looked at Darcy. “Jesus. It makes sense. Of course.”   
  
Darcy bristled and pouted. “The hell do you mean by that?”   
  
"I mean," he quickly reached for her hands. "There’s the look—the eyes and your nose, for sure—but there’s your jokes, and the self-deprecating humour," he squeezed her hands, "and the utter brilliance there… obviously you earned your smarts on your own, but there was some help in the brain cell department. And… god," Steve just shook his head.   
  
Darcy was still a little annoyed. “Okay, we’re two totally different people, with two totally different brains, that happen to be good at science. Don’t make this weird.”   
  
Steve shakes his head to clear his thoughts. “No, you’re right. Sorry. It’s kind of like breaking the glass—once you see it, you can’t unsee it, you know?”   
  
"Well, you’re going to have to figure out how to, bucko," Darcy pulled her legs from between his and swung them over the edge of the bed.   
  
She had to give props for the valiant effort—her toes had just touched the floor before he pulled at her arm, pressed her back onto the bed and laid a wet, warm kiss on her. Steve is a guy who knows when he’s screwed up—and he knows that the sooner he realizes and makes amends, the better it is for everyone.  
  
"I’m sorry," he punctuated between kisses, "I’m sorry. I’ll shut up about it." He wrapped his arms around her and damn it, she loved this. She loved how small he made her feel—how safe he made her feel. And she was by no means small or weak, but it was a very nice feeling. She snuggled back into his hold and he brushed her hair back from her face. "How’re you feeling? I mean, if he does find out—"   
  
Darcy pauses and worries her lip again. “I wish he wouldn’t… I’ve got a feeling he won’t handle it well.”   
  
"No, probably not, especially with the issues he already has."  
  
Darcy blinked and paused. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?”  
  
Steve looked a bit owlish as he blinked, but then realization sparked behind his eyes. “Shit. Yeah, you wouldn’t know that. Um… Tony and his dad… they didn’t have the best relationship.” Steve seemed a bit hesitant—Tony was a colleague, after all, and this seemed like a bit of a betrayal to be talking about this… but then again, at least amongst the Avengers crowd, this was common knowledge. Hell, even SHIELD knew this much. “Tony’s said that Howard focused more on his work than his kid. And Tony… he got into MIT at 14 and did all of these great things, trying to get his dad’s attention and… well, he never felt it was there.”   
  
Darcy’s eyes widened. “… okay, now I’m definitely not telling him.”  
  
"I think you should, Darce."  
  
"1, no, and 2, I was worried that the idea of fatherhood would’ve broken him before, but wit the daddy issues on top?" Darcy shook her head. "Nuh-uh. No way, mister. I’m not going to be responsible for the world being destroyed because Tony Stark is too busy having a panic attack."   
  
Steve sighed and rolled off of her and they both stared at the ceiling for a while. “Howard was so smart,” Steve muttered, and she could see that he was getting sucked back into the ‘good ol’ days’ again. “But he got so involved, so deep sometimes… I can see him forgetting he had a kid.”  
  
Then Darcy felt it. A little quiver of worry that turned into a shudder and then it was a constant buzz of deep discomfort. “Okay. Now I’m freaking out.”   
  
Steve looked back at her. “Now? _Now_? You’ve known longer than all of us—”  
  
"No, not that," Darcy groaned and covered her face with her hands.  "The fact that my _boyfriend_ was best friends with my _grandpa_.”   
  
"… Oh."  
  
"Oh god, that is _so weird_. _”_

"Nothing I can do to change it."

"Take my mind off it, then."  
  
"Will do."   
  
———————————-  
  
  
The next morning she sneaks back to her apartment after spending the night at Steve’s. It’s early enough, before 6 AM, so she should be in the clear, but she holds her breath until she’s back in her own place (which is kind of hard to do because she’s walking a little funny after last night and its all Steve’s fault and she just wants to mutter “ow, ow, ow,” as she heads back) and closes the door behind her.   
  
A sleepy groan comes from her couch.   
  
Darcy spins around to see Tony.   
  
He’s sitting there, on her couch, in her space, blinking slowly. He must’ve slept there—he was wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday. Had he been there all night?   
  
He sits up, runs his hands over his face and scratches his hair. Slowly his eyes come into focus and land on her. Tony opens his mouth, and closes it. He looks exhausted. He looks lost.   
  
Tony mutters, “You didn’t come home last night.” Like that explained him being there.  
  
There’s no snark, no sass, no sauciness in his voice. He’s not teasing her. He’s not being his usual self. She looks at him and looks at her coffee table, which is usually covered in her trashy tabloid collection. One thing stands out, isn’t part of the mess. There’s a manilla file folder sitting there, open, and even from a distance, she can recognize the black and white ID photo clipped to the file.   
  
Darcy swallows and gives herself a second. This is not how she imagined that this would go down.   
  
"Well, I’m twenty-six years old and I have the freedom to stay out all night if I want to," she speaks calmly. "Not like anyone gave me a curfew before."   
  
And there it was. They were both acknowledging it without saying it out loud.   
  
Tony almost looks a little sad before he leans forward, sighing heavily, putting his head in his hands.   
  
It was starting already. He was deteriorating before her eyes.   
  
Darcy needs a distraction so she walks toward her kitchenette and turns on her coffee machine. While she watches it kick to life and start up, she wonders who is to blame. Jane doesn’t know so it isn’t her fault, but she probably lit the spark that started this. And Tony is smart enough to do his own reasearch—he wouldn’t have to go too far to find her file; to see her in-case-of-emergency contact, which was her mom; to see when and where she was born. What he did wasn’t even considered ‘snooping’—that was her Stark Industries file. Of course the (faux) CEO could look up basic contact information of any employee with the click of a button.  
  
Tony clears his throat. “Um, so, when—”   
  
"Mom told me when I was younger," she cut him off to spare him them the agony of the awkward question. Once her coffee mug was full, she turned towards him. "Coffee?"   
  
"Right. Yeah. Black."   
  
Okay, so he takes his coffee the same way. That was pretty weird, too.   
  
She hears him shifting on the couch. “So … um … ” He grunts as he pushes himself to his feet. “Are we… ” He closed his mouth and swallowed hard.  
  
God, it hurt listening to him fall apart like this. Tony Stark was always full of life—words spilled out of his mouth like they were nothing, and that’s how you knew he was still functioning. When he doesn’t stop talking, he’s a-okay. This is exactly what Darcy didn’t want. This is exactly what she was worried would happen.   
  
Darcy turned back to look at him, and smiled sympathetically. “Nothing has to change, Tony.” She put his coffee on the kitchen island standing between them.  
  
"Of course it does," finally a little emotion. He sounded annoyed. "You’re… " he scrubs his hands through his hair, frustration taking over. "You’re my _kid_ for god’s sake—”  
  
"And I’m no longer a kid," Darcy cut him off. "So it’s not like you have to start paying child support or anything like that."   
  
"Jesus, that’s not—" Tony catches himself. "There’s more to raising a kid than just having the money. I mean… fuck. Had all the money in the world and look how I turned out."   
  
Darcy bit he lips for a moment. Ah, yes, this is what Steve had warned her about. She sat up a little taller. “It’s been twenty-six years. Shit happens. If Mom had told you that I existed and you made a decision to not be around? Yeah, this would be different and awkward as fuck and _then_ you should feel like shit. But she never told you, did she? No. And I still turned out just fine, through no fault of your own.”   
  
Tony closed his eyes hard for a second. He was still having a hard time processing this. And for a split second, no matter how much Darcy said she was fine, no matter how much she brushed feelings under the rug, she realized that maybe Tony was the one feeling abandoned. That she was being too harsh on him. It wasn’t an idea that had come to her before and it made her squirm.  
  
"… my dad did such a shit job—I always wanted a chance to do it better. Do it right."   
  
"So go have a kid with that wonderful girlfriend of yours and start there."   
  
He’d almost think she was being dismissive, being bitter and snarky, but her tone was so encouraging and when he looked up, Darcy had a genuine smile on her face. She tilted her head. “Don’t worry your head over me. I came out just fine. We got it figured out and went from there.” She frowned suddenly. “Would it be creepy to say that you and Pepper would make a really cute baby together? Because you would.”   
  
Tony huffed a laugh. “Not creepy—but it’s something I would say.”   
  
Darcy bit her lips together and kept quiet.  
  
"Um, so, how should we tell—"  
  
"We don’t have to tell anyone."  
  
"What? Why not?"  
  
"Tony, if you have to do something for me to make yourself feel better? Keep this a secret. And before you give me that kicked-puppy look, I’m saying that because I don’t want all the attention that comes with being Tony Stark’s kid."   
  
Tony scrunched his face up. “You won’t get any attention.”   
  
Darcy gave him a look that said _are you serious right now?_ “You think that paparazzi won’t be crawling all over this tower when word gets out that Tony Stark had a secret love child from a fling twenty-seven years ago? You don’t think they’ll be writing headlines like POTTS HEART BROKEN and LIES  & BETRAYAL IN THE TOWER, and other big action headlines? You really don’t think so?” And, she didn’t mention, how much worse it would get if the paparazzi found out she was dating her dad’s teammate?  
  
Okay, so she had a point.   
  
Tony looked at a spot on the floor, and cleared his throat. “… okay. So. That’s it, then.”   
  
Darcy nodded. “That’s all.”   
  
Tony hovered, his hands hanging by his side, and he clenched his fingers. A moment later, he muttered, ‘right,’ and turned back to the couch. He flipped her folder closed and it picked it up, holding it tightly in both hands, and walked towards the door.   
  
"Your coffee?" Darcy called before he touched the door. "It’s a Stark Industries mug—it’s yours. You don’t have to bring it back."   
  
He paused and she couldn’t see his face. Then he pulled her door open and closed it quietly behind him.   
  
There’s one way, a bad way, that Darcy and Tony are alike.   
  
They’re both really good at acting like they don’t need anybody.


	13. 1987 was a big year (Part 4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [deep breath in]
> 
> [loooooooooooooooooooooooooooong exaggerated sigh]
> 
> Gertie was not as agreeable with this part. But it still happened.

 

Sometimes Tony would get so involved in his projects, so completely and utterly immersed into his own little world, that he wouldn't notice Pepper walking into a room. Sometimes. So his lack of response when Pepper entered his workshop one evening wasn't much cause for alarm, no--there were plenty of other red flags that worried her.

  
The lab was silent. The radio hadn't been turned on for the last three days.  
  
Sandwiches, prepared for him but barely eaten, sat in the garbage can.  
  
She's pretty sure he's wearing the same shirt she saw him in three days ago.  
  
And to top it all off, the project he was working on?  
  
Tony was just rebuilding his motorbike. He's rebuilt it twice. It would be one thing if he was building a new Mark suit; and another thing when he was having a major breakthrough working with Jane or Bruce; but rebuilding his motorbike was like child's play. It was a way to warmup his brain before really putting it through some work. Maybe once or twice a year he would tinker with it because he was bored--but to take it apart and rebuild it twice in three days?  
  
Tony was looking for distraction from something he couldn't handle.  
  
And Pepper had a pretty good idea what was bothering him. She really hoped she was wrong.  
  
Pepper walked into his lab and slowly crossed over to him, pulling a chair from a nearby desk and wheeling it with her. She sat on his right, crossed her legs, and leaned against her knees as she watched him tinker.  
  
Tony only glanced from his work momentarily--but Pepper was patient. She knew, when it came to her man, that all she had to do was wait. Everything would come out. All she had to do was show that she was there, she was patient, and she could wait for him. She was willing to wait--wanted to wait--for him.  
  
Tony just wanted someone who wanted to be around.  
  
Tonight, it only took a few minutes for him to spill over. He held the drive shaft in his hand and was polishing it up when he spoke.  
  
"You knew the other day, right? When you asked about 1987?"  
  
Pepper nodded. "I had a hunch I was working off of."  
  
That made him pause.  
  
She shrugged innocently. "You two are freakishly similar."  
  
Tony looked up and met her gaze. Hearing it from another party--one he trusted so much--was a tad jarring. She couldn't tell if she was helping or making it worse.   
  
"How did you find out?" she asked him quietly.  
  
Tony cleared his throat and turned back to the metal before him. "Foster said the same thing.... Darcy brushed it off, but... well, once you see it--"  
  
"--it can't be unseen," Pepper finished for him, her tone all-too-knowing. Which earned her another look from him. She smiled sympathetically. "Did you talk to her?"  
  
"She wants nothing to do with me."  
  
"I doubt that--"  
  
"She said she didn't want the attention that comes with being Tony Stark's kid," and he dropped the drive shaft. It fell to the floor hard, the metal reverberating loudly, painfully, echoing throughout the room. Pepper only winced momentarily while Tony put his head in his hands. She quickly pushed and her wheelie chair slid over to him so she could put her arm around him, just in time for his shoulders to shake.  
  
"I didn't think I'd be such a disappointment before I even got the chance to fuck things up."  
  
Pepper frowned and squeezed as tightly as she could. She wrapped her hand around his wrist, her thumb brushing over his grease and oil slicked skin. "Give her time," she told him, a hushed whisper as she put her cheek on his shoulder. "Imagine being aware of your dad your entire life and suddenly being on his payroll."  
  
"I _tried_ ," Tony sighed, and she felt the defeat in his voice. "I just tried to _talk_ to her and she shut me down--"  
  
"--much like how you used to whenever I wanted to know what was bothering you," Pepper cut him off. "That's one thing you're both good at. You're both great at acting tough. You don't need to rely on anyone--when in reality, you want that ... rock in your life. The person you can count on." Pepper started brushing her fingers through his short hair. "And for Darcy, her dad, that guy wasn't an option...  until a few months ago. So she's scared. Just give her time, Tony. She'll come around."  
  
His shoulders were shaking much less than they were before, but he hadn't lifted his head or moved an inch.   
  
"I'd feel better if I knew where her head is at."  
  
"It's in denial," Pepper answered none-too-gently. "Because she doesn't like being handed things that she has to deal with."  
  
"... that's not funny."  
  
"I'm not trying to be funny. I'm pointing out the obvious."  
  
Finally Tony let out a long, exaggerated sigh and sat back up, rubbing his hand over his face before turning toward her. Pepper's hand slid down but staid pressed against his back. She tried to give him the most reassuring smile she could. "Don't be mad, but I did talk with her when I had my hunch--and she was worried about this bothering you. That's why she kept it quiet. There are a lot of people that rely on you and she didn't want you to be distracted by that."  
  
"... really?"  
  
"Yes, really. So if you don't want to bother her... I suggest you stop moping about in your lab. Come. Join the outside world for a bit. You can mope for a bit, later, if you need to, but for now it's time to socialize and show her you're still a superhero."  
  
Tony bit at his nail for a moment before letting Pepper pull him to his feet. Then he leaned close and kissed her, gently, warmly. "I'm glad I've got you."  
  
Pepper smiled. "I'm glad I've got you, too."  
  
"... speaking of socializing... can you help me with something?"  
  
  
\-----------------------------------------------------  
  
 _SIX WEEKS LATER...._  
  
  
Up until this point, nothing had really changed around the Tower. Which was good. That's what Darcy wanted.  
  
Actually, to be honest, Tony barely spoke to her, even if they only saw each other for a few hours a week anyway. But she had asked for it, and this was fine.  He still went out and super-hero'd when needed and that's what was most important.  
  
Today, though, on her damned birthday? The biggest change was the fact that she had a boyfriend for her birthday. That was new. She wasn't about to run around and inform everyone and their aunt, but it was still a nice, exciting feeling. Steve and Darcy were getting along great and there was no sign of slowing down.  
  
That was the one change she was happy about.  
  
Now, on her birthday, she had to add "pulling out her taser at work" to the top of the list.  
  
She had good reason--that damned neutron laser suddenly went kaput in a flash of sparks before exploding to a million pieces. Darcy and Jane had ducked behind their work desks in time and Darcy was only a little scratched up here and there from flying parts.   
  
Unfortunately, today was a day where Bruce was working in their lab.  
  
The Other Guy didn't like surprises or loud noises.  
  
He had changed so quickly that Darcy was sure she literally blinked and the Hulk was huffing and growling in the corner of the lab. Thankfully, while Darcy stood there, starstruck, Jane had her wits about her to hit the big green 'HULK' button attached to every work station. The lights in the room dimmed and the alarm sounded throughout the floor--the regular red 'oh god we're all gonna die' flashers were pulsing green instead (the code for 'the hulk is loose and we might die if we don't do something about it really quick').  
  
Hulk didn't like the noise. He pulled out the speakers in the ceiling, urging for it to shut up. Darcy grabbed her purse (why her purse?! why did she do stupid things in time-intense situations?!) and started following Jane out of the lab, using slow, controlled steps.  
  
At least, until he spotted them. And started charging for them.  
  
Darcy knew that Bruce felt shitty about what the Hulk did and she knew he had no control over it--which is why Darcy had to tell herself, repeatedly, ' _this is not Bruce that I'm doing this to_ ,' before she could pull her Taser from her bag and hit the Hulk square between the eyes.  
  
Oh, fuck, Lewis, _bad move_.  
  
Hulk raged at the pulse (so he must've felt something) and Jane cursed and pulled Darcy along. Darcy hadn't disconnected her charge in time so her taser fell to the ground, only to be crushed by Hulk's big feet a few moments later.  
  
Darcy pouted. Damn it. Tasers were expensive.  
  
Thankfully Jane and Darcy didn't have to run too far before they met with the Hulk's tactical team. Clint and Steve brought up the front, Clint armed with a tear-gas bow. Unfortunately the Hulk was catching up on them fast. Darcy tugged Jane into a side-corridor quickly (they both fell to the floor when they turned too sharply) and Hulk had too much momentum to catch up with them. He skidded along the floor towards the tactical guys and was a clear shot, long enough for Clint to hit him with a tranq _and_ release the tear gas.  
  
There was some roaring, and the hiss of the gas filled the air. Darcy and Jane sat frozen, huddled together on the floor, waiting, staring back at the hallway. What were they doing to him? Whatever it was, was it working?  
  
A few seconds later they heard a familiar groan and a single word: "Shit."  
  
"I wouldn't say that, Banner," Clint's voice carried through the air. It was light enough to know that the danger was over. "The compound gas did what you wanted it to do."  
  
"Still--I mean, Darcy and Jane--"  
  
"They're fine," Steve called out, as he rounded the corner, looking for them. His shoulders relaxed instantly when he looked them both over and found that they were in one piece.  
  
Jane and Darcy both let out big, exaggerated sighs that they'd been holding in and relaxed. Steve smirked and pulled Jane up to her feet, and she protested. "My everything hurts. I'm not supposed to run that hard, ever." She doubled over and rested her hands on aching knees. " _Ow_."  
  
"Shut up, Jane," Darcy groaned at her from the floor. "It's your damn fault the laser blew up, anyway."  
  
Steve chuckled softly before he pulled his girl to her feet, and, not caring that they had an audience, kept pulling until she was tucked in against him. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. "You're alright?" he murmured in her ear.  
  
"Peachy, Cap," Darcy muffled into his shirt. Well, she was banged up a little bit, but nothing to make a fuss over. And she had been a little spooked--being chased was never a fun activity. So taking a second to cuddle with her boyfriend was some good therapy.  
  
When she pulled back, Jane was giving them both a knowing smile, but she said nothing.  
  
The noise from the hallway grew, meaning more SHIELD agents had arrived, probably to assess the damage. So Darcy took Steve's hand and they both moved back out into the open with the others.  
  
Tony showed up pretty quickly with Pepper in tow. He always came down whenever the Other Guy came out--to give Bruce the moral support he needed, and to assess the damage to his Tower. He got Bruce back up on his feet (Bruce was already nattering off the side-effects of the tear gas (dizziness, headache, mild nausea) so he wasn't too bad if he had something to focus on) and made sure he was okay before looking over the hallway.  
  
Thankfully the Hulk damage wasn't too bad. The two sets of glass doors leading into the lab were completely ruined. Some of the wood paneling along the hall was dented and smashed. For once, the floor was fine (that damned marble really liked to break under the Hulk's feet and it was a pain to replace).  
  
That's when Tony saw the shattered taser. Completely smashed, sparking lightly here and there. He nudged it with his foot and frowned at the parts. It was a pretty crappy model.  
  
Tony looked down the hallway at the rest of them group. Thor had arrived and was fussing over Jane. Steve though... Steve had Darcy's face cupped in his hands, thumbs brushing delicately over the light scrapes on her skin. She gave him a reassuring smile before bringing his hands down. There was a pause before Steve leaned forward and pressed a warm kiss to Darcy's forehead--then, seemingly satisfied for now, Steve moved to talk to Clint.  
  
She must've felt his eyes on her--Darcy turned back towards the lab and saw Tony, with her smashed taser at his feet, and the obvious worry on his face. It was kind of nice to see something besides that lost look, to be honest.  And it would be normal for a coworker to be worried about her, so this was a welcome moment.  
  
Darcy threw him a bone; she made the A-OK sign with her fingers and offered a small smile.  
  
Tony blinked once, twice, completely taken back by the gesture. He cleared his throat, offered her a wry smirk. Then medical showed up and they were tugged on Darcy's arm, demanding to check her over.  
  
With a sigh, Tony turned back to his blown up lab and wondered how to make it more Hulk-proof.  
  
  
\------------------------  
  
  
The plan for tonight was to go out for dinner. Jane had already bought her a cake (ice cream cake from Dairy Queen because Darcy doesn't care how old you are, that shit is the bomb) that morning that they had eaten in the lab and given her an iTunes gift card. Thor wanted a big feast but Jane subtly told him to calm down--Darcy's not big on birthdays.  
  
Steve, on the other hand, was very determined to show his girl a good time. He told her to dress up and that he was going to take her out for a great dinner and some dancing. If Darcy was a few years younger, she would've called the date typical and boring--but because it was Steve? She had been so excited.  
  
The problem here was that she was _exhausted_.  
  
"You can change the reservation to tomorrow, right?" Darcy asked, wincing visibly. "I'm sorry."  
  
Steve kept shaking his head and brushed her hair back. "It's okay. Go in, take a bath, go to bed early... we'll figure it out tomorrow."  
  
Darcy pouted. "You were so excited about it... " She genuinely felt bad. Steve had been so pumped when he found a ballroom dancing club, and his excitement had been contagious. Darcy had a dress with a wide skirt that would twirl out whenever she spun--it was the perfect dancing dress.  
  
"I'm not about to take my girl out when she's sore," Steve reassured her. For once, Darcy didn't protest. She could say 'i'm fine' until the day was done but the truth was, she was hurting and was the first person to say it. Muscles ached and she had the all clear from medical, but was told to take it easy. That meant no physical activity... even the recreational kind.  
  
Damn it. She wanted birthday sex.  
  
Steve smoothed her hair back and pressed a warm kiss to her forehead. "We'll make it up later. Don't worry about it. I'm just happy you're okay."  
  
Darcy smiled up at him before curling her finger down, and Steve didn't need to be told twice. He leaned down and kissed Darcy, thoroughly, deeply, his tongue curling against hers. Darcy let a breathy moan loose, and she felt Steve stiffen at the sound. It was him that pulled away though--just when she was getting riled up.  
  
"Happy Birthday, Darce."  
  
"Thanks, Steve."  
  
She let herself into her apartment and waited until she heard Steve's retreating footsteps before groaning. Loudly. Damn it, Steve had been whispering naughty shit in her ear all week, and she couldn't even cash in. Karma was bullshit.  She tried stomping off into her bedroom but it didn't work so well when her joints protested. (Okay, sex would be a bad idea in this condition. She knew it. Didn't mean she had to like that she knew it.)  
  
She had just thrown off her shirt and pulled on her pajama tank top when she noticed the foreign objects in the room.  
  
Sitting on her bed were two things. A black box, and a stuffed animal. Not the cheap, poly-filled kind you can grab for five dollars at the Kwik-E-Mart--it was a brushed fur, gently made stuffed penguin. An _FAO SCHWARZ_ ribbon was bowed around it's neck. It was about as big as her pillow.  
  
Darcy blinked for a very long time--trying to process who did this, who found out she loves penguins, who had access to her apartment--before she finally stepped to her bed, reached out, and opened the box.  
  
Inside was a brand new taser gun.  
  
Darcy perked up instantly--her last taser had been so damned expensive and she hadn't been looking forward to searching for a new one. One that was small enough for her purse, one with enough safety functions so she wouldn't tase herself on accident, one that would take a baddie down without a second charge. And here it was. A manual lay beneath her new toy (that's basically what it was, considering how giddy she felt) and had the stats, everything much more powerful than she had before... and then she saw the inside of the box.  
  
 _STARK INDUSTRIES TECH - SPECIALTY MODEL - NOT FOR SALE OR DISTRIBUTION_  
  
Darcy stared at the gun in her hand and back at the penguin on her bed.  
  
When her college friend reconnected with her dad, he would send her the most asinine things. A new bedspread from IKEA showed up at first (she had no need for a new bedspread?) then there was the concert tickets to Katy Perry (she didn't listen to her music?) and then there was the littler things like flowers on her birthday (she's allergic to flowers) and chocolate (girl was lactose intolerant). The one thing that stuck with Darcy, when her friend lamented to her?  
  
" _I don't need the stuff--I'd rather have a real conversation than the stuff. A real talk with my dad is something I could use. Then he would've found out that I need new pots and an IKEA giftcard would've been more useful. He would know what kind of music I listen to, what I can and can't have in the apartment because of my allergies... but even besides all of that--I'd love to know that he wanted to make an effort to get to know me. That's all."_  
  
And here it was, right in front of her. He made the effort to find out what her favourite animal was. He knew she needed new tech and more importantly, he got excited about guns and things-that-go-boom the way she did. No one could say that they didn't have shared interests.  
  
She couldn't deny that she was his kid.  
  
Softly, she cleared her throat and asked, "JARVIS?"  
  
 _"Yes, Miss Lewis?"_  
  
"... where's Tony?"  
  
  
\----------------  
  
  
They had just finished a lovely (but late) dinner and Pepper was pouring them each another glass of wine when the elevator to the penthouse 'ping'ed. They both looked towards it and when the doors revealed Darcy, standing in her pajamas, holding a familiar looking penguin, Tony sputtered and choked on his drink while Pepper felt nothing more than absolute _joy_. _Yes. Finally. These two nincompoops.  
  
_ "Darcy!" Pepper exclaimed and smiled warmly. "We weren't expecting any company."  
  
Darcy had worked up all of this courage to get up here and at least thank him in person, and now what? She's staring them in the face and she can't put two words together? Unconsciously, she hugged the penguin tighter to her chest as she nodded at Pepper.  
  
Pepper eyed the penguin, and then at Tony's red face. Ah. Well, at least she could play it cool. "I think there's some chicken left--do you want some?"  
  
"No," Darcy finally spoke up. "Thanks, though."  
  
Pepper nodded. And then the room was quiet again.  
  
Ugh. These nincompoops.  
  
"Do you want me to give you some spa--"  
  
Both Tony and Darcy blurted out 'no' before Pepper finished speaking. They looked each other in the eye, startled, before Darcy cleared her throat. "Stay, please?" she muttered.  
  
Well, if this was as good as it was going to get... Pepper nodded, but she still got to her feet. She reached for Tony's plate, leaned over to give him a quick, reassuring kiss before clearing dishes. She took them over the kitchen and began to clean up--but everything was open-concept in this Tower. She was really only ten feet away from them both; close enough for support and far enough that they'd have to make the conversation on their own.  
  
Darcy stood awkwardly for a few moments--standing in her bosses/her dad's penthouse in her pajamas, holding a stuffie--before shuffling closer and sitting in the seat Pepper vacated.  
  
Tony's fingers couldn't stop fidgeting. He ran his thumb over the edge of his glass. His other hand used its fingernails to pick and pull at the place-mats on the table. Yet he couldn't look up at her yet.  
  
Darcy gestured to the penguin. "Who told you?"  
  
Tony made great effort to put his glass to the side and crossed his hands together on the tabletop. "... your mom. I gave her a call after I found out."  
  
Darcy's eyes widened. "Are you serious right now?"  
  
"Figured I owed her a call." He grimaced, all at himself. "I _do_ remember saying I'd call her. So here we are... twenty-seven years later."  
  
"Better late than never?" Darcy offered awkwardly. "How did that go?"  
  
"Calmer than I thought it would be," Tony admitted. "Which was weird. I thought she'd be pissed."  
  
Darcy agreed--her mom had been on a Stark rampage for her entire life. And now what, he calls her and she was all talk, no game?  
  
"I just said that I'd met you. Not that you're working for me."  
  
"Thanks. She thinks I'm still in New Mexico."  
  
Tony leaned back in his chair. He was still figdeting. It was subtle but she could still pick up on it--crossing his arms but still tapping his one finger, or his foot shifting back and forth beneath the table. The man needed a screwdriver in his hands before he could feel comfortable. And Darcy... well, she would probably be figeting too, if she didn't have this massive penguin to hug. She felt a bit childish in her pajamas, holding her present, feeling unbelievably shy. It was a weird feeling to have on her twenty-seventh birthday. Darcy dipped her chin to hide her mouth behind the penguin's head.  
  
Tony cleared his throat. "She was kind enough to bring up your birthday. And that you were obsessed with penguins. Your whole bedroom back home is covered in penguins."  
  
"Is not," she scoffed, because she was never allowed to paint penguins on her bedroom walls like she wanted to so no, her whole bedroom was NOT penguinified, thanks very much.  
  
"... does Steve know you like penguins?"  
  
" _Tony_."  
  
They both turned back to the kitchen. Pepper was glaring at Tony something fierce, still clearing the dishes. Darcy was impressed--she hadn't even had time to tell Tony to fuck off. But the truth was out now, wasn't it? And ... well, Tony obviously didn't look pleased, but he didn't look as broken up as he had been over the whole Dad thing. He held his hands up. "Just teasing. That's all." He crossed his arms again. "Can't say I'm happy about it but... at least it's not Barton."  
  
Darcy gagged. "Oh god, no, never Barton. Never ever." She visibly shivered before pausing, taking a moment, to address this other news. "

And no, Steve doesn't know. So I have to explain this," she gestured to the penguin before getting to her feet. Her cheeks felt hot and she was hitting her breaking point. Not that this hadn't gone well, it was just a bit overwhelming. She took a deep breath before looking at him. "I ... just wanted to say thanks. For this. And the taser. Thanks." Super cool and smooth.  
  
Tony bit his lip for a second, like he wasn't sure, like he wasn't expecting this. Like he could've tucked them into her apartment and it would've been fine and dandy if she never said anything. That was his olive branch. He never expected anything back.  
  
"... Happy Birthday, kid."  
  
It could've been a badly timed pun. It couldn't have been more weird. But it came out so naturally and Darcy felt her chest swell at the name. She turned on her heel and was on that elevator as fast as she could be.   
  
And she really couldn't help admitting that she snuggled that penguin as she went to bed that night. It was too damn soft and comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is as far as this prompt will go. If anything else transpires, I'll post it--but I don't have much planned past this. We'll see if Gertie is a true bitch or not :p Thanks for all of the positive reviews and feedback, folks :3


	14. 1987 was a big year (Part 5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My muse's name is Gertrude and she's a right-ol hag that likes to drag my writing through WIP's that I thought I was done with. 
> 
> So. Here ya go.

"I didn't know you like penguins."  
  
Darcy's hand paused across the reports page, pencil lead hovering over the paper, as her brain quickly connected the dots. It only took a few moments before she spun around on her stool to bark, "The fuck were you doing in my room, Barton?"  
  
Clint didn't even bother giving her his attention. He kept leaning against Bruce's work station, holding one of his prototype trick arrows in his hands. He focused on the tip and adjusted a few parts. "It's got to be your penguin," he spoke up, deducing to her face, as if she needed an explanation, "because Steve Rogers having a thing for penguins is kind of like a snail having a fascination for salt. Considering Steve's time on the ice, and all."  
  
"What the _fuck_ were you doing in my room?!" Darcy slammed her hand on the tabletop and managed to keep her voice controlled, but no less menacing. Thankfully Bruce was facing her direction, and the rule of thumb in the lab was that the Other Guy just didn't like surprises. Doing shit behind Bruce's back and making noise? That counts as a surprise. Watching Barton get chewed out and possibly beat up? Hell, that was entertainment. And Bruce was almost smirking at her.  
  
Clint feigned innocence. "I was simply doing my job of securing the perimeter, Lewis. And frankly, that's a pretty big stuffed animal. Kind of hard to miss."  He quirked a brow. "Did Steve get it for you? That's cute."  
  
Darcy rolled her eyes. "Get bent, Tweetybird," she grumbled before turning back to her table. Hopefully, he would drop it, because the truth was a bit more embarrassing and complicated compared to what Clint was suggesting.  
  
Thankfully the Truth just walked through the doors, his girlfriend at his side, nagging about how far over the monthly budget he already was. Tony tried to calm her down but as soon as he spotted the arrows in Clint's hands, he was already gone. "The fuck are you doing with my toys, Barton?"  
  
Okay, the phrasing was purely coincidental.  
  
Darcy avoided looking at both of them while Clint pouted. "You're making them for me anyway--why can't I--"  
  
"Did I say they were ready? No, I did not." When he got to Clint, Tony snatched the arrows out of his hand. "Don't you have some paperwork you've been avoiding?"  
  
Clint rolled his eyes. "Yeesh, you're as ornery as Lewis," he grumbled before he stalked out of the room.  
  
The skin on the back of Darcy's neck just _crawled._  
  
Tony took it in stride much more smoothly than she did, though--he didn't even clear his throat or say anything awkward. He just started asking Bruce if he was feeling better after his 'moment' yesterday (he was, thanks for asking) and proceeded to ask what else Barton got his grubby hands on. This was good. This was how things were before the cat came out of the bag, and it's all Darcy wanted. (She just wished everyone would stop making so many comments that were so close to the mark.)  
  
Jane came back from her brief meeting with Coulson and set down some more numbers for Darcy. Unfortunately she noticed the little sway in Jane's step, the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. Ah.  
  
Darcy opened the cabinet drawer at her desk and pulled her bag out. "Time for a coffee run."  
  
Jane smiled at Darcy in that way that made Darcy sure Jane was going to ask for her hand in marriage--one of these days, she just might do that--and Darcy got moving before Jane could start waxing poetic on how marvelous she was. "Bruce? Your usual?" (Herb tea, of course.)  
  
Bruce looked up from his stats and smiled at Darcy. "Thanks, Darce."  
  
And she made a split-second decision. Maybe she was getting soft in her resolve, or maybe she was just being polite, or maybe in the back of her mind she knew it would look weird to cut him out, but Darcy asked, "Anything for you, Tony? I'm buying."  
  
And _that_ made the billionaire pause, and turn stiffly in her direction. _That_ was what made it weird. Tony was almost a little wide-eyed, completely thrown off by her. Darcy gave him a subtle glare--yeah, she messed up, but don't make a big deal of it, yeesh.  
  
"Sure," he finally mumbled after a very, _very_ long pause. "Yeah."  
  
Darcy nodded firmly and headed for the door.  
  
Jane called after her. "Aren't you going to ask him what he wants?"  
  
Oh _balls_.  
  
This time, Darcy kept her mouth shut--she was so close to saying that she knew what he wants, he wants black coffee--but damn it, she kept. Her mouth. Shut. She paused and turned on the balls of her feet and looked at Tony.  
  
He cleared his throat again. "Black coffee. Strongest they've got."  
  
Jane laughed, partially surprised. "Same as Darce. Weird." She turned back to her laptop.  
  
And Darcy practically bolted out of that lab, as fast as she could, and when she came back with everyone's Starbucks, she had for herself one of those ridiculously sweet-and-whip-cream-y frappe's just to make a point to Jane, damn it.  
  
\------------------------  
  
"There is way too much sugar in those stupid frappachinos," Darcy complained later at dinner. "My hands won't stop shaking."  
  
She had a point--the poor girl had been jittery and had an innate desire to bounce off the walls all afternoon. There was a point where she was holding a light for Bruce as he tinkered with something, but she kept shaking the flashlight. And the sugar-high still hadn't gone away when she was getting ready for her big post-birthday date and even an hour later, she was still tapping her foot and willing her hands to stop twitching.  
  
Steve leaned across the table and covered her hand with his. "We'll get it out of your system later."  
  
Darcy quirked a brow at him. "Later at the Ballroom or _later_ later?" she asked with a saucy smirk.  
  
Steve just laughed at her and raised her hand to kiss her knuckles.  
  
Oh, how hard it had been when she opened her apartment door and saw him standing there in a suit. Steve looked amazing in a suit--the broad shoulders filled out his jacket and there was something amazing about men in white dress shirts. The hard part was resisting the urge to drag him into her bedroom, skipping dancing and dinner altogether... but no. They already put this off for one night, and Steve had been so excited. This was good for both of them.

Although she definitely noticed the way he was looking at her, with her hair pinned up and her retro-style dress. She hit the nail on the head in that department.

The waiter came by and Steve paid the bill and soon they were back out on the streets. Darcy half expected them to grab a cab, but Steve actually gave her a hopeful look. "It's not too far--are you okay in your heels?"

"Define 'not too far.'"

"Four blocks."

Darcy shrugged. "Yeah, I can do that. It's actually a really nice night." There was only a slight breeze and the sun hadn't quite set. Fall was here but the leaves hadn't fallen and the chill hadn't set in. Darcy stepped up and hooked her arm through Steve's. He smiled proudly at her.

Darcy cleared her throat. "I think everyone kind of knows about us, by the way. Clint was poking fun, earlier."

Steve shook his head. "Not too surprising. Clint has a habit of poking around." Then he tilted his head to look at her. "Are you okay with that?"

Darcy shrugged. "Yeah. I mean... well, the only reason I wanted it to keep quiet was because of the whole... Tony thing, you know? But now that he knows, and hasn't suffered a mental breakdown yet... it's okay. Yeah. And as long as Clint doesn't keep acting like an ass, it'll be good. You look smokin' hot, by the way. I don't know if I said that before, but you do. Geeze."

Her obvious deflection of the Tony subject didn't go unnoticed by Steve, but as much as he wanted to find out what happened, he knew that she'd just tell him that it's her birthday and she didn't want to talk about it. So instead, Steve huffed a laugh and humoured her. "You think so?"

"Hell yes," Darcy proclaimed. "A man in a good suit is as hot as a woman in good lingerie." She shook her head and sighed. "If only your gender would realize that--everyone would be so much happier."

Steve could only laugh, more than a little thrown off, until Darcy continued. "You were wearing the suit the first time I saw you."

"Not _the_ suit?"

"Oh, _the_ suit has its merit, don't get me wrong," Darcy was quick to correct him. "The spandex over the thighs and ass? Yes. Absolutely. But nah--first time I saw you? I had been in the Tower for maybe, two weeks? Something like that. And you had just gotten back from some intelligence op, where you had to crash a fancy party in France, and you were with Natasha, and you had just gotten back--"

" _That_ mission?" Steve cut her off as soon as he remembered. "Seriously? By the time we got back, we'd been awake for 36 hours--Nat can tell you herself, but we both felt disgusting after that--"

" _Yes_ but you we wearing a tuxedo and had your bowtie hanging loose and your hair was all messy," Darcy's voice trailed off into a breathy sigh and she finally smirked up at him. "That did it. I was a goner. Also, when I got to know you, you turned out to be as snarky as I thought you might be."

Steve grinned that crooked little grin of his and he shifted to rest his hand on her waist, pulling her closer to his side. Darcy hugged him back, relishing in his warmth. Damn, he was like a personal space heater. "I saw you before that," he admitted in a quiet tone. "I'd walk past the lab--Jane and Bruce would be busy, but you'd be sitting in the corner, with your headphones in your ears, mumbling along to whatever you were listening to. And you kept chewing your lip when you worked. And you always wear that red lipstick-"

Darcy raised her head and gave him a look. " _That_ 's what you noticed?"

Steve raised a brow. "Have you _seen_ your mouth?"

Darcy barked a laugh. "Have you seen _yours?"_

Of course, this led to Steve pressing Darcy gently up against the first building he could reach, and he showed her that mouth, dragged that bottom lip against hers, slowly and hot enough, teasing her until she made a soft, whiny noise that he loved to hear her make.

She should sass him about his mouth more often. No matter what jokes people make about Captain America being an Apple-Pie virgin--first, Darcy knew that wasn't true, because duh--and second, it wouldn't matter if he was because he _knew_ how to use that mouth of his.

They had been going at it for a bit too long--his arm had snuck around her waist, making her arch her back, as Steve licked deeper into her mouth, and Darcy's hands were tugging his shirt from his pants, finding bare skin and trailing her nails over it. Seriously, this was getting hot, and Darcy was all for the birthday sex, but this needed to stop. They were in public. They were not alone on this street. And she was twenty-seven now, damn it, she'd have to start acting like an adult.

(Adult-hood was overrated, in her opinion.)

So Darcy put her hand on Steve's chest and gently pushed him back, and Steve sighed, and it was full of regret but he kissed her temple anyway, and that's when in the distance, along the Chelsea Pier eight blocks from where they were, a mad scientist's gamma bomb exploded before it had enough time to generate enough power to cover all of Manhattan with Hulk-levels of radiation.

 

\---------------

 

People screamed, sirens filled the air in an instant, and Steve was cursing because he tried calling SHIELD three times before his call finally went through. Shows how jammed cell phone signals can get on the island when something goes wrong--but the wait was agonizingly long and Darcy wasn't feeling any better about the scenario. There weren't any aliens in the air, there weren't any more explosions, but still. This was not how Birthday Version 2.0 was supposed to go.

Steve kept her crowded against the building as people ran up and down the streets, keeping her out of harms way, just as his call finally went though. "I'm close," he told whoever was on the receiving end, not bothering with a greeting. "What's happening?"

Darcy faintly heard Nicky Fury's voice. " _It's already been dealt with, Cap_." Curiosity got the better of her and she tugged on Steve's phone hand. He leaned down and held the phone between them so they could both hear, but he wasn't too happy so far.  
  
"What? What are you talking about--I didn't even get the call--"  
  
 _"Stark took care of it,"_ Fury cut him off. " _Once the readings came through with the extreme gamma levels at the Pier, he went out to investigate. First one on the scene and he dealt with the problem."_  
  
When the radio went quiet, Steve frowned so hard Darcy was sure the radio would break. "Why do I feel like there's something you're not telling me?"  
  
There was a heavy sigh through the comm. "S _tark took a good beating. That's the problem with going out alone--no backup. He's being transported to the Tower's medical bay right now. We expect him to make a full recovery._ "  
  
The last two sentences didn't really register to Darcy. All she heard was white noise and she suddenly had a really, really hard time breathing.  
  
She didn't even notice how hard she was gripping Steve's hand until he was practically shaking her back to reality.  


 

  
\-------------------

 

  
The Mark suit did its job.

Sort of.

What remained of it hung in the lab--the faceplate was gone, along with many other pieces, but for the most part, it was still in one piece. The chest armour remained, the legs were mostly in tact... the suit's primary function was to cover the vital organs and it looked like it had done just that.  
  
Unfortunately it wasn't completely foolproof.  
  
Darcy had a hard time looking at it--the exposed wires, the missing plates, knowing that there was nothing between a mad scientist and Tony's body at those points. So she only gave herself a few seconds with it before she tried to focus on something, anything else besides it. Unfortunately, with Tony in surgery, there wasn't much else for the team to do.

Fury had stopped by to tell them all that as far as they knew, there was a so-called 'scientist' who had the intent of exposing the entire city to gamma radiation in hopes of creating an army of Hulks. Fury admitted that he knew how dumb it sounded but that's what the idiot said. Tony was working late with Bruce in the lab when the Tower's equipment picked up the unusually high levels. Tony took off in the suit, and arrived just in time to stop the evil doc (meaning he shot him with repulsor beams) and he may have disabled the device, but there was too much pressure built up in the warehouse's power reserves and, well... it exploded.

There was some internal bleeding. Tony's doctors are doing everything they can and it's simply going to be a while before they can see him. The perpetrator is in custody and will be swiftly punished and incarcerated. And Fury left with a swirl of his jacket and not another word.

Natasha sat quietly on the sofa in the corner, looking much less intimidating than usual. Barton wasn't beaking off, for once; just leaning against the wall in the corner near Natasha, arms crossed. Thor was pacing, muttering to himself about how Tony should've called for help, shouldn't have gone alone. Bruce and Jane did what all emotionally unavailable scientists did and focused on the parts of Tony's suit that were broken.  
  
Pepper was down in Coulson's office. No one had seen her since it happened.  
  
Darcy sat at her desk and turned on her computer and opened some files. The familiar numbers and figures were comforting and helped her push down the cold weight filling her belly. After a few minutes, Steve walked up to her and rubbed his hand over her back. The weight was soothing and she closed her eyes while she took a deep breath.  
  
"You okay?" he asked quietly.  
  
Darcy gave him a stiff nod. "Just need to get my mind off things."  
  
Steve didn't say anything more, but he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple.  
  
Their little interaction caught the attention of a few folks in the room. Natasha sat up, curling out of her protective bubble for a moment. "That dress looks great on you, Darcy," she told her.  
  
Darcy gave her an appreciative smile. "Thanks."  
  
"Were you two on a date?"  
  
Darcy had to bite her lips together to keep from grinning like a goof, but that was all Natasha needed. The redhead's stoic face shifted into a knowing grin--the only smile she's shown all night--and she wiggled her brows at Steve, who sighed and rolled his eyes.  
  
Darcy finally caved in. "It was to make up for my botched birthday date the other night. I was kind of out-of-order after the little... laser explosion."  
  
"Well, Cap's just gonna have to take you out again."  
  
Steve threw her a warning look which only made Clint snicker behind his hand. Darcy looked back and forth between them all, curiously--yeesh, how much flack had Steve been on the receiving end of?  
  
Once Clint finally composed himself, he asked, "So you're the one who gave Darce that big penguin? For her birthday?"  
  
And Steve blinked, once, twice, before asking, "What?"  
  
... Oh _BALLS_.  
  
She hadn't had a chance to tell him about. She hadn't had a chance to tell Steve about her talk with Tony last night. She hadn't had a chance to warn him that Clint was being a nosey little fucker about it. And now Clint had his brows high up on his forehead, and was giving Darcy the most accusatory of looks, and even Natasha looked confused (and Natasha knows everything) and Jane was looking over and Darcy felt her skin crawl and everything felt too tight and she couldn't breathe--  
  
Thank god for JARVIS.  
  
" _Agent Coulson would like you to know that the surgery was a success_ ," the AI chimed in, claiming everyone's attention. " _He says that Mr. Stark is in the observation room and is starting to wake up, if you would like to check in on him from the gallery_."  
  
That's all anyone needed to hear--computers were shut off, suits ignored, and hopefully the conversations were forgotten but for the moment, all anyone could feel was relief.  
  
  
\-------------  
  
  
Tony was awake, with dozens of tubes coming out of him and he looked like shit, but he was smiling. Pepper sat at his bedside, holding his bruised hand, looking like the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders as they talked quietly. The way Tony was looking at Pepper so fondly... well, who wouldn't want to be looked at like that?  
  
Thor and Steve each let out big sighs and Jane almost giggled when Tony made a comment and Pepper gently smacked his hand in retort. They all stood on the other side of the glass peering into the room. This was all they needed--visual proof that he was going to be okay. Visiting could happen in the morning after everyone got some sleep. For now, this was time for Pepper.  
  
Darcy leaned her head against the wall near the window, and let the tension slip out of her system. He was alive. He was dumb, beat up, and would have a wicked scar over his eyebrow, but he was breathing.  
  
Steve noticed her and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She looked up at those concerned baby-blue's of his and smiled gently, letting him know she was okay.  
  
They watched Agent Coulson enter the room and Pepper and Tony both looked at him, and while they couldn't hear him very clearly, he gestured towards the window, indicating that the team was there. Tony looked towards the glass and spoke as loudly as he could, saying the most perfect Tony thing:  
  
"Once again, you're welcome. Leave it to the guy in the suit to do all the hard work."  
  
And the _burst_ of expletives from practically every team member--coupled with creative insults calling him different variations of pig-headed, self-centered, not thinking things through, glory-hound, among other things--made Jane jump and Darcy started laughing awkwardly. Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The insults all came from a place of love and concern, of course.  
  
... well, 80% love-and-concern, 20% sheer annoyance.  
  
Steve was the one that finally groaned and shook his head. "I give up. We can yell at him tomorrow," he gestured to everyone. "It's late. C'mon, everybody to bed."  
  
Darcy was the last to tear her eyes from the window before following everyone into the elevator.

 

\---------

 

Darcy opened the door to her apartment and let Steve in before locking the door behind her. The heels were kicked off beside the door and Steve slid his jacket off his shoulders, gently folding it and laying it over the back of the couch. He usually left his jacket there when he came over--it became an easy habit. And Darcy didn't mind, because she left all of her crap all over anyway, but mostly because she was glad that Steve felt at home in her place.

Darcy was sure he was going to help himself to a beer or something, too, so she moved to her bedroom to hang her dress up for another day. Time for sweatpants and bad reality television. She began pulling the pins from her hair, letting her locks tumble over her shoulders.

Steve didn't go for the fridge right away though. He was worried about his girl. She'd been absolutely silent since they were in the lab with the others. Darcy always had something to say--verbally or through her wonderful facial expressions--and it was so out of character for her. He knew this was about Tony. He also knew that if he tried to bring it up, there was a great chance she would deflect him like she had earlier before their date was ruined. Either way, he had to try.

And that's when Darcy was walking to her closet but stopped short at her bed. She paused before reaching for something on it. Steve quietly moved to her bedroom door and leaned against the frame. Sitting on her comforter between the pillows was a fluffy, stuffed penguin. Darcy was absentmindedly picking lint from the dark, plush fur.

"Is that the penguin Clint was talking about, Darce?"

She nodded, her hair falling forward past her face.

Steve pauses, treading through unfamiliar territory. "... Did Tony give it to you for your birthday?"

And when Darcy looked up at him, she can't get the words out of her mouth. Her eyes are wet and she's biting her lip and trying her damnedest to keep it together. As Steve moves to her, Darcy drops the penguin and brushes her fingers under her eyes.

"This is so stupid"--her voice is watery as she protests--"I don't get emotional like this, Steve--and he's fine, he's totally fine. And I'm losing it! I watched him go up in that Black Hole, the day Loki attacked? And this didn't happen. I don't even--wait, what are you doing? Where are we going? ... Steve?"  
  


  
\----------------

 

Pepper brushes her thumb just over the cut over his eyebrow.

"You should go to bed."

"Not yet," she spoke softly, looking down and back into Tony's eyes. "I got too riled up to sleep."

Tony let out an over-dramatic sigh. "All this pampering over a few bruises--"

"Shut up," Pepper cut him off. "You don't get to belittle this. Alright?" She ducked her head and looked straight into his eyes. "Don't belittle this."

That's all it took sometimes to get Tony to stop being so... Tony. Show him that you genuinely care and he'll stop being a little shit. Tony reached his hand (the one that didn't have tubes stuck in) down to her lap and grasped her other hand. He squeezed her fingers with apology.

Pepper smirked and looked over at the tray in the corner of the room. "You should eat something."

Tony wrinkled his nose. "I feel nauseous."

"Just a little?"

At that moment, some voices out in the hallway took their attention away. They were quiet, given the time of night, but everything had been silent since the Avengers left earlier. A few moments later, Coulson came into the room. He offered an apologetic smile--which was really confusing--but then it made a lot more sense when Coulson stepped aside and let Darcy in.

Pepper and Tony both perked up at her presence, and much to Pepper's surprise, Tony spoke up first--except his voice cracked. "Hey," he started, and offered a weak smile. "You didn't have to get all dolled up just to see me."

Darcy took a deep breath. Her eyes were looking everywhere but at Tony. From the beeping machines and the emergency defibrillator in the corner to the wires stuck to his chest and his sprained ankle propped up and the deep gouge across his forearm. "U-Um," she started, very quietly (very un-Darcy), "Sorry to butt in like this."

Coulson stood awkwardly at the door. He had been under orders not to let anyone in until morning--that's what the doctor's told him. Pepper was the obvious exception to the rule, but the Avengers would have to wait until the morning. But what exactly was Coulson supposed to do when Captain America brings the patient's daughter around?

After a moment's thought, Pepper stood up from her chair. "That's okay," she told Darcy before ducking down and pressing a kiss to Tony's forehead. "I was about to run to the bathroom anyway."

Tony peered up at her and the fear was obvious in his eyes. Be alone in a room with his kid? Yeah, great plan. Give him aliens, give him mad scientists, but family interaction? Nuh-uh. Not good.

Pepper ignored the look and simply patted him on the head before making his way to the door. She gave Darcy an encouraging smile. "Try to get him to eat something?"

Darcy managed a quick nod, before Pepper walked out, Coulson following behind.

And Darcy took a sip of a breath, just enough to talk, but her throat felt too thick and her eyes watered and she bit her lip to try to control everything that was pouring out.

Tony's smile faded and he almost sat up with concern, until Darcy whimpered, "... I'm really glad you're okay."

 

\---------------

 

Steve watched through the window as Darcy burst into tears. His heart ached watching her, but he felt better when Tony--beat up, useless for the moment Tony--actually made an effort to sit up. He had concern all over his face, and when he realized he couldn't get closer to her he reached his hand out.

_"Kid, I can't get over there so you're going to have to get over here, okay? Please? Seriously, I can't handle the crying, no matter who does it--just--will you get over here?"_

Darcy jumped and moved to the bed, and Tony grasped her hand as her shoulders shook. Steve couldn't see Darcy's face, only her hand grasping at Tony's. And he hoped his teammate was saying the right words, hoped he was making her feel better and letting her know it was okay.

He had a feeling Tony knew how to do the right thing, no matter how much he insisted he didn't.

The door to the medical bay opened and Pepper greeted him with a smile. She and Coulson stepped up to Steve and watched the pair through the glass.

"So. Tony bought her that penguin?"

"And a new taser. Birthday presents."

"Ah. That sounds more like a Tony gift."

"Um, no. Listen. Darcy's lucky that all she got was a two-foot penguin, okay?"

Steve gave her a worrisome look while Pepper stared through the glass. Whatever Tony was telling her to calm her down was working, and Pepper was sure it was words she had heard before. There have been a lot of reassuring talks in their relationship, about taking one day at a time, because Tony couldn't stand by as people suffered but Pepper would always be his first priority.

Maybe he was telling Darcy something similar. And maybe that was a good thing.

Just as Darcy took a seat in the chair Pepper vacated (and they all saw that she had stopped crying, thank goodness) Steve let out a long, heavy sigh.

"I think more people are going to find out soon."

"We can keep it quiet," Coulson reassured him. "SHIELD has the connections to keep the media quiet."

Good, Steve thought. Because it didn't matter what everyone else thought. It didn't matter whatever Clint was thinking or what TMZ or Perez Hilton would think of this kid. What mattered was what he could see through the glass--two people who had been roughing it on their own for so long that they hadn't even considered family to be an option for them.

Steve knew enough from Darcy that her mother wasn't the most emotionally available, supportive woman on the planet. He knew enough from his own experiences with Howard Stark to believe Tony's mentions of him being an absent father. Darcy and Tony were products of childhoods where they learned to fend for themselves.

A supportive family--family that understood, family that respected each other? That wasn't a viable option before. But it's something they're willing to try.


	15. Winter can suck it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Suck it, winter. 
> 
> One-shot. Early relationship fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meri gave me a "Fuck off, winter" prompt with a 100 word goal just to get me writing again. This actually just beat 500 words. Thanks Meri :)

"If I had balls, they'd be freezing right now."

" _Darcy,_ " Jane stressed through clenched teeth, making a point of nodding at the small children they were stuck in the van with.

Darcy pulled her measly little parka closer. "Oh, come on, those kids are at least ten - they already know what I mean when I say balls."

Jane gave up because there was no point in trying to reason. Everyone was at their wits end--a major evacuation of the Stark Tower to some remote location in the middle of the Arctic Tundra whilst New York was being attacked didn't exactly put anyone in a cheerful mood.

Thankfully the van finally pulled to a stop and the blacked-out doors swung open, revealing their destination. An underground, full-scale government military base. There were dozens more buses and vans coming in through the hanger bay, letting out even more evacuees. Some SHIELD agents, some family of SHIELD agents, other VIPS... all looking lost and worried about how long they'd be down here.

Darcy learned early on in the world of extra-terrestrial espionage that trying to hang on to every twist and turn can be nauseating. It's much easier to go with the flow. Right now, the flow is demanding some warmth.

Ugh, somehow things seemed warmer back in the van. Darcy shivered violently and muttered, "Fuck _off,_ winter." She looked around for some relief and spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Captain Rogers-- _Steve, damn it, you can call him Steve now--_ somehow managed to look good even in a shapeless SHIED-issued snow jacket. His blonde head stood out above the crowd, even though his beard (a recent addition) gave him a bit of a disguise to the crowd.

Darcy kept her arms wrapped around her body and shuffled over. She kept her legs as close together as possible and looked a little silly as she attempted to walk, but damn it, she needed to preserve her core temperature.

"This place looks like the battle station from the planet Hoth," she said. Steve started at her surprise entrance, but huffed a laugh. Yes, success. "So you _have_ seen _Star Wars._ "

"A couple months ago," he replied. "Sam and I had a marathon movie night."

"Nice," she shuddered, and groaned angrily. "Winter can suck it."

She hadn't even been hinting at anything--honestly, she hadn't!--but after a pause, Steve stepped up behind her, unzipped his jacket and pulled her into it. Thank god his back was to her; Darcy didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cheeks flush. This definitely helped though. Steve was like a god-damned furnace; his heat was already seeping into the back of her jacket and her stomach, where his arms were wrapped over, felt it too. Also there was the thrill of utter that ran up her back because he _actually made a move on her_. Something she's been waiting for these last few months.

She couldn't let him get away without a little jabbing.

"How very forward of you, Mister Rogers," she teased, wiggling her shoulders playfully.

Steve laughed and put on his best USO-tour voice. "Gee, ma'am, I don't know what you're implying - I just know a gentleman shouldn't let a lady get cold."

Darcy snorted. "Cheeky little shit."

He rewarded her by pulling her deeper into his parka.


End file.
